Faith
by Genis Aurion
Summary: [slash: StanKyle] Three things endure in this world: Hope, love, and... faith. [Chapter 30: A Matter of Choice]. COMPLETED!
1. Are you there, God? It's me, Stan

_Hey God, are you up there? It's me, Stan. I know I haven't written to you in a long time. I think the last time I wrote to you was when I was eight, six years ago. It's not that I've stopped believing in you or anything, because I haven't. I just haven't really needed to write to you. Besides, you're watching down on us from above anyways, so it's not like I'm not keeping you updated._

_Anyways, I have a question to ask you. It's really been bothering for the past few weeks, and the pastor at my church couldn't give me a straight-out answer. Do homosexuals go to hell? It's a really weird question for me to be asking, but I just want to know. I've just been contemplating their situation for the past few days… is it really their fault that they go to hell based upon their orientation? I don't seem to think it's that fair. Those people don't have a choice to simply switch, do they? I mean, having to switch orientations just to be admitted into heaven?_

_The reason I'm asking you this is because of my friend Kyle. I guess you can say he's double-damned, or at least that's what Cartman (Eric) argues. Yesterday after school the four of us (Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, and myself) were hanging out by the skating rink when Kyle called the attention of the rest of us. Since we were his closest friends, he wanted to tell us first that he was, err, a homosexual. I didn't really mind, and I even patted him on the back and congratulated him for being brave enough to tell us. I think Kenny's response is a split one, though visually he simply shrugged and told Kyle he didn't mind. But here's when Cartman comes in. He begins by sarcastically congratulating Kyle, and then all of a sudden starts talking about blackmail and stuff. They got in this real big fight, and after Kyle yelled, "Fuck off you stupid fat-fuck!" Cartman said something along the lines of, "Well screw you Kahl, you're double-damned to hell anyweys." Then he walked away and left Kyle sobbing._

_I don't want my friend to go to hell, God. Kyle is a really good kid, who's really smart and is the least deserving to enter such a place. But if Jews and homosexuals really go to hell… I don't want Kyle to have to go there too. I hope you somehow give me an answer soon, God._

_-Stan_

"That should do it," said the boy called Stan, setting down his silver fountain pen. The boy brushed his black bangs and scratched his forehead for a brief moment, trying to think of what to do with the letter. Of course, Stan wasn't _really_ going to send it to God, mainly because Stan didn't quite know God's address. After a few seconds he thought of an answer, folding the letter into thirds, and tucking it into a white envelope. He picked up his fountain pen once more, and along the center he wrote in blue ink, "To God c/o Jesus". "That's got to be the answer," said Stan, setting the envelope at the corner before turning off his desk lamp. He stumbled around his room in the dark until he found his bed, and he fell onto it face first. He reached upward to snatch his pillow, and after laying his head on the soft material his mind slipped into another world.

- - - - - - - - - -

_"Happy hump day!" Cartman yelled to the group. Kenny giggled uncontrollably as Stan briefly stopped tying his ice skates to stare at Cartman. The four were at Stark's Pond, and since the pond was frozen the four were going to skate there. It was a popular frozen lake to skate on, but surprisingly no one else was there at that particular moment._

_"Cartman, do you know how many other ways that can be taken?" Stan said with a laugh. At this Kenny laughed even more uncontrollably, putting his hands to the opening of his parka's hood to prevent him from laughing too loud. Kyle didn't even make a reaction to this statement, and he only continued to tie his skates on._

"_Of course I know," said Cartman, tapping his fingers on his side impatiently. "But how else am I supposed to say it? That's the phrase isn't it?" Stan nodded and smirked as he resumed putting his skates on. Kyle finished as he stood up, joining Cartman in waiting for the other two. "Come on, Kenny, finish up so we can skate!"_

"_I'm more worried about the ice breaking from your weight," muttered Kyle under his breath. Thankfully enough the other boy didn't hear his comment, and so he left it that way. Kenny, on the other hand, couldn't resume tying his skates, still laughing at the other joke. "Okay Kenny, we're going to leave you here if you don't finish."_

"_Mmph mmmph mph mmph!" protested Kenny, returning to his previous task._

"_But I'm almost done," Stan countered back, "You've barely started, Kenny." Kyle wobbled awkwardly to the pond, tired of waiting for his friends, and began skating. It was a very common pastime in the small mountain town of South Park; almost every child had a pair of skates to use in the winters. It was also a great social activity, where friends could catch up on each other's lives while having fun. Overall skating was a must-do activity for a high school teenager._

_Eventually the four were all equipped with their skates and skated. The experience was interesting; Kyle refused to skate anywhere near Cartman, especially since Cartman wasn't very skilled and kept collapsing onto the ice. Stan was an average skater, and likewise was Kenny. They skated for two hours, approximately, and by the time they finished they were sprawled on the ground at the pond's edge, exhausted and tired._

"_That was rather fun," said Stan, grinning and tilting his head to his left side. He heard Kenny agree, though it was muffled by his parka. His gaze met Kyle's form on the ground, and his smile turned to a frown. He had barely heard the boy speak the whole time. "Hey Kyle, are you okay? You seem rather quiet."_

"_Oh, it's nothing," said Kyle quietly. Stan glared at the boy, though Kyle couldn't quite see._

"_Nothing my ass," replied Stan. "I know something's up. I've know you since preschool, maybe even earlier. I can tell when you're upset." Kyle shifted but didn't say anything._

"_Ah, screw the Jew," said Cartman, getting up. "I'm sure he wouldn't want to tell you anyways." The bigger boy hobbled over to a tree stump to remove his skates, and the other three began to follow him._

"_Wait," said Kyle, causing everyone to stop in their tracks. "I really do want to tell you guys. You're my best friends, and so I think you deserve to know first…"_

_- - - - - - - - - -_

Stan's flashback was interrupted by the loud sound of his alarm clock. He cursed loudly, getting out of his bed and made his way to his desk lamp. After turning on the small light he found his way to the closet. He mumbled something inaudible as he found a blue shirt and jeans. He fitted them on and left his closet, going to his bed to make it up. After his bed was in order, he walked over to his desk to pocket the envelope.

"I need to remember to pass that by Jesus's house," muttered Stan. He rubbed his eyes as he opened his bedroom door. However, his tired mood quickly changed to an angry one as he approached the bathroom door. "Come on Shelly! Open up!"

"Shut up Stan!" yelled Shelly, who had retired the usage of the name 'turd'. "I'm putting on my makeup right now. Go away!"

"But I'm sure you've been there forever," said Stan, beating upon the bathroom door. "I need to brush my teeth and take a dump!"

"Beat it!" snapped Shelly. Stan quietly cursed as he left the door, and he made his way down the stairs. He stumbled into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. He pulled out some milk and poured it into a nearby bowl.

"I hate having to wake up this early," muttered Stan. He poured in some cereal into the bowl, stirred the cereal with the milk, and took a bite. He glanced at the nearby clock, which read about 6:35. _Only an hour until I'll have to see Kyle and Cartman at the same place..._ Stan gulped.

- - - - - - - - - -

Chapter 1 completed. I hope you review. I took down my other one because of many inconsistencies. I'm new to the South Park genre; please feel free to constructively review my work. I hope chapter 2 to be up soon.


	2. Hurricane Gossip Strikes

The only high school in South Park was very odd. The town was a very small area, and there weren't many students attending the schools. However, the people who designed the school insisted on building a large campus, stating that there would be a time where the extra space was needed. The town mayor objected to the idea, but since the parents of that time wanted the large campus the idea stayed. Over the years the class sizes grew slightly, going from 70 in a class up to 120 students, but it wasn't enough yet to actually make the campus filled.

As a result, the five hundred students or so that attended South Park High didn't suffer overcrowding as the more urban high schools underwent. This had several advantages and disadvantages. The cafeteria was very barren, and the hallways were only filled slightly. Classes were small, so the student didn't feel intimidated to ask questions. Of course, this also presented many disadvantages. There was little excuse to be tardy, for starters, and the classroom size prevented you from escaping class participation.

Perhaps one of the biggest disadvantages, as Stan found out that morning, was how quickly things spread in the school. Stan had only been there for one semester so far (it was January in his freshman year), but he had heard from the seniors that rumors spread really quick in the school. At first he didn't believe it, arguing that with a small population there were less people to gossip the rumor. Today he found this to be false.

Stan stepped onto campus that morning and immediately looked for Kyle and Kenny. He told himself to not forget the letter in his pocket, in which he planned to deliver to Jesus that afternoon. He wasn't even sure if Jesus could give that letter to God, but he supposed that Jesus could answer the letter instead if that was to be so.

Stan always got to school twenty minutes early to allow time to hang out with his friends, which was good since they didn't really spend much time together in class (especially with Kyle, in Stan's case). Stan made his way to the science building staircase, which was where the gang usually hung out. Barely any teachers passed through there (they were always passing upstairs, but never on the bottom floor), and though the four didn't do anything illegal it was the perfect place to do so. Stan smiled when he saw Kenny already there. He was equipped in an orange sweater (he had outgrown the parka, except in cases where he would actually need it), and holding his breakfast with his left hand. Stan gave his morning's greetings, and he was responded with a muffled '_good morning'_, which was due to his mouth stuffed with food.

"Have you seen Kyle or Cartman yet?" Kenny added once he swallowed his food. Stan shrugged, and though he meant to say no his lips didn't really move. Instead, Kenny assumed that as an I-don't-know, so he added; "How do you not know if you've seen someone or not?"

"I don't know," said Stan. "I meant to say no, I'm sorry." Kenny nodded, and took a bite of a crisp-looking bagel. "Kenny, I'm not sure what to do about Kyle and Cartman."

"What'd you mean?" Kenny asked, swallowing his food before taking another bite. "They've been like this since who knows when. They fight all the time."

"Yeah I know," replied Stan, "but it's always been about some stupid thing, excluding the Jewish discriminations. But now Cartman's got some juicy info about Kyle, and I don't know if Cartman is going to go as far as feeding Kyle his parents, or something equivalent." Kenny frowned, swallowing his food yet again, and scratched his chin.

"You have a good point. I didn't really think of it... but now that you mention it, I am starting to get worried. I'm sure Cartman won't chop up the Broflovskis and feed them to Kyle, but he could do something serious." Just then a random guy walked up to them and spat at Stan's feet. This striked as awkward to both boys; they had never seen this kid, nor had they done anything mean to him. They couldn't connect him to anyone or anything.

"You stupid freshman," said the boy. Normally Stan would be very angered at the remark (though almost every freshman had to go through that anyways), but this time he felt relieved. The boy wasn't there to rip on them for something else that was perhaps more hurtful.

Or so he thought.

"You're all going to go to hell," continued the boy. "God doesn't like homo-lovers." _Shit_. What had Cartman done?

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kenny asked. "Do you have the wrong people or something? Stan here isn't a homosexual, and neither am I."

"Dont' fuck with me," said the boy. "Eric Cartman says that you hang out with that fag Kyle. Stan and Kenny, he said. I have the right people, yes?"

"That son of a bitch hangs out with Kyle too!" yelled Stan in protest, "and he's a freshman too! Why aren't you ripping on him?" The boy snarled at the two boys, looked at his feet to think about the question, and then he walked off. Stan and Kenny were both raising their eyebrows, confused of the kid's action. Then... "That fat-fuck Cartman!" yelled Stan in anger. "Why would he do this to his friend?"

"I don't think they consider themselves friends," corrected Kenny. "I don't remember the last time they really did anything nice for each other." Stan nodded, though he didn't want to. He knew that that was true. Now, Stan was worried for Kyle's welfare. Hopefully he wouldn't be ripped on too much. As the two left their hangout to go to their classes, Stan muttered softly,

"I hope they send Cartman to that death camp of tolerance thing..."

- - - - - - - - - -

First period was one of the few classes that Stan shared with Kyle. Kyle, being the smarter one in the group, was in classes that were one, sometimes even two grades ahead of his own. Freshman English was the only class that Kyle wasn't allowed to get a headstart on, and so he was stuck with his other fellow ninth graders.

The class only had twelve people in it, which included both Cartman and Kyle. Stan saw this as a horrible dilemma, and hoped that Cartman wouldn't announce to the whole class of Kyle's new news, or something along those lines. As the bell rang to signal start of class, Stan looked around the room. There were only eleven students present.

Where was Kyle?

- - - - - - - - - -

**Author's Notes: **I think I'm going to stop there, folks. It's an awkward place to stop, I know, but I have to get back to procrastinating my homework. I'll only be updating on weekends, so I expect a lot of reviews during the week's course. Also, I'm still opened to suggestions! You know, reviews, ideas as to where to go, and such.  
Oh, and I need a **CHAPTER TITLE!** Suggestions welcome, too


	3. Trapped in the Closet

The day went by very slow that day for Stan. Kyle's absense may have contributed to the problem, but merely him being gone wasn't bringing down his day. Over the course of his day, Stan received many snide remarks about Kyle, and all Stan could do was deny each remark. He couldn't quite see why Cartman had to tell the whole school, nor did he see why everyone cared so much when they found out. To Stan it was merely a personality trait, not something to be ostracized by.

There were a few people who felt the same was as Stan, as he later found out. Kenny was among them, of course, and he kept telling Stan that the whole thing would die out soon enough. Bebe, one of their classmates, also didn't seem to mind, which surprised Stan. When they were younger, Bebe had a huge crush on Kyle, and Stan would've thought that this would've upset her a little; then again, she could also take it as a way to justify the idea that she'd never get him.

"I hope he's fine," said Stan as he and Kenny were walking back from Jesus's house. Stan had dropped the letter off with Jesus, and he was told that Jesus could get the message to God. Stan wondered how that would work, since God probably didn't live in South Park. Yet he trusted Jesus's word.

"Dude, he'll be _fine_," said Kenny, giving an annoyed sigh. "I'm trying to figure out why you care so much, Stan."

"I'm only worried about his welfare," said Stan. "He's looked after me many times; I think it's time I cared for him too." Kenny cocked an eyebrow.

"Really..." he said, dragging the last syllable for a few seconds. "That sounded very homosexual just now, not to give offense or anything. Hey, I'm not implying anything!" Kenny added, raising his hands in innocent as Stan glared at him.

"I'm not gay, Kenny," Stan said. "I'm just concerned for my best friend, that's all." Kenny mumbled something inaudible, so Stan continued. "I mean, it's like buying flowers for your mom on Mother's Day. I'm sure you don't love your mom in that way, right?" Kenny nodded, though Stan was sure he was still thinking otherwise.

"Whatever Stan. Hey, do you think we should visit Kyle? He's probably at his bouse, and it's on the way anyways."

"I-I don't know Kenny. Maybe he wants to be alone-" But Kenny refused to accept Stan's argument.

"If you cared so much you'd want to visit him, right?" Kenny got him there. So then it was decided that they would pass by Kyle's. The two boys found Ike in the front yard, who was playing in the snow making a snowman. Ike was Kyle's adopted brother, and he was considerably younger than Kyle. Ike was admitted into kindergarten at the age of 3, which was extremely young to begin school. Overall, Ike was a boy genius.

"Hey Ike," Kenny greeted. "Is Kyle home?"

"Yeah," said Ike, though his facial expression suggested that something wasn't right. Stan seemed to notice this, but he merely raised an eyebrow and said nothing. "He told me to tell everyont that asked for him that he was sick."

"What?" asked Stan. Ike laughed nervously.

"Heh heh... I mean, he's sick and he can't see anyone." Stan nodded and turned on his heel, but Kenny wasn't finished.

"Oh, no he doesn't," said the blonde, tugging Stan by his sleeve and barging in the house. Ike seemed as if he was going to stop the two, but after thinking about it decided against it. Meanwhile, the two boys began climbing up the stairs, Stan no longer needing Kenny's forceful grasp to move him. A few steps in the upstairs hallway, and they found themselves at Kyle's door.

"You open it," said Stan. Kenny shook his head.

"Nuh uh. You do it, Stan." Grumbling, Stan raised his fist to the door, and tapped the door twice; no noise was heard in response. Stan repeated this process, and still got the same effect.

"You won't be able to get him out," said Ike's voice as he climbed the stairs. The little boy walked up to where the other two boys were, clothes still covered with snow. "Everyone's tried to get him out, but... I don't know. The only time he's spoken was to say, 'Tell everyone I'm sick'."

"Do you know why he's being like this?" asked Stan slowly. He hoped that it wasn't because of the fight he had with Cartman.

"No clue," said Ike. "I think dad said that after dinner we were going to raise a ladder up to his window and see if we can see anything in his room. Until then, I have no clue." Both boys nodded, and turned to each other.

"This is getting serious," said Stan. Kenny nodded.

"I think we need to tell Mr. Broflovski to get up that ladder now," said Kenny. "I hope he's all right." Then, as he heard Stan snicker, he added, "What? I can't care for my best friend?"

"So does that make you gay?" Stan asked, still snickering. Kenny growled.

- - - - - - - - - -

As soon as the ladder was set up Mr. Broflovski began scaling the metal rungs. just until he was in reach of the bedroom window. However, he began cursing (thoughit wasn't a big deal, as damnit wasn't on the no-tolerance list at school) once he learned that Kyle had pulled the curtains together.

"Just break the window!" yelled Stan. Kenny shook his head.

"Don't do that, you idiot. You're going to ruin the window! That's going to cost a lot of money!" Stan shook his head; leave it to Kenny to try and save money.

"What if he's doing something irrational?" yelled Stan. "We have to see if he's okay!" After some more convincing, Kenny nodded.

"Now okay, Kyle," Mr. Broflovski yelled through the window. "You have five seconds to open this window or else we're breaking it. Five... four..." Stan craned his neck to see the sight, hoping that Kyle would suddenly change his thoughts and let them in. That didn't happen, however, and so when the count reached five Mr. Broflovski gave a long sigh, and shattered the window. Stan laughed inside as he heard Mrs. Broflovski's shrieking voice inside, but quickly changed moods when he heard Mr. Broflovski's panicked voice.

"Boys, come up here!" Stan gestured Kenny to go first, mainly so that if Kenny slipped Stan could support him before he reached that frequent fate of his. As soon as both of them were at the top, Stan looked around the room. Nothing seem wrong; there wasn't any visible blood staining the walls or anything. There wasn't anything missing either, except...

"Where's Kyle?" asked Kenny. Stan paced around the room, trying to see if there were any clues. He didn't need to look long, for as he approached the bed a shrill yet muffled voice filled the room.

"GET OUT OF MY FUCKING ROOM!"

"Kyle!" yelled his father, realizing where the voice was coming from. He ran towards the closet door, and did his best to open it. However, it wouldn't budge.

"His closet locks on the inside too?" said Stan in disbelief.

"I thought yours was the only one!" Kenny added.

"Kyle Broflovski, I will unhinge this door if you don't open this door!" yelled Mr. Broflovski. There was a silence for a few moments, and for a few seconds Stan thought that Kyle was contemplating whether he should or not. However, Kyle must have said something, because soon after he said "Did you hear me? I said no!"

"Please Kyle," began Stan, "can't you just get out of there? Kenny and I would really like to talk to you... without a closet door in between." There was another silence, but this time Stan knew that this time it was intended.

"S-stan?" stuttered Kyle. "What are you doing here? I told Ike-"

"-And we refused to listen to him," said Stan. "Please get out?"

"No," said Kyle. "I don't want to be around any of you. You won't understand."

"Understand what-?" began his father, but Stan cut him off.

"How do you know that?" said Stan. "Sure, we aren't really going through the same things as you are. Sure, we don't know what it really is to be who you are. Sure, we really don't know what it's like to be a minority. But that doesn't mean we can't understand. That doesn't mean that we don't want to understand. We're your friends, and we're willing to listen if you give us a chance..." Kenny nodded and made some sort of approval noise, but Mr. Broflovski remained confused.

"Kyle, if this is all about being Jewish..."

"Leave me alone," said Kyle. And there was no getting past that.

- - - - - - - - - -

**Author's Note:** I had little homework, so I updated. I'm upset on how many reviews I got for the last chapter, though it was a rather pathetic chapter. Please, review and let me know how I'm doing. The less reviews I get, the less I feel motivated to keep writing more chapters.

As for God's/Jesus's response, that'll come near the end of the story. For reasons of my own. So please review?


	4. The Mystery of Antigsa

**Author's Note:** Yes, I'm doing this at the beginning. I really wish more people would review.  
I watched an episode where Jesus dies. I'm not entirely sure if he dies permanently, or if it's like another Kenny death. Though I'm sure Kenny's the only one who dies and comes back repeatedly, I decided to make this statement. So for the purpose of this story, pretend that Jesus doesn't die.  
OH YEAH! Some conscious ranting in here. Next chapter might have **Cartman** in it, since I've chosen to neglect him at the moment.

**Important note:** I'm failing my AP Chemistry class... (what? noooooooo). As a result, I will probably be doing even more work than normal. As it is right now, I don't believe that there are enough readers for me to keep writing. I guess I'll sacrifice my grade to **_keep writing_** if three **different** authors review (not new authors, just three different ones... so not like the same person reviewing for each of my four chapters so far).

- - - - - - - - - - -

By the time Stan finally got home that day it was already dark. He was rather pissed, primarily because he had a fairly large amount of homework to do that evening, which didn't leave him a lot of time to complete it. Hopefully he would be able to present his case to his teachers with them understanding. Of course, Kenny would also be able to back him up... unless Kenny was somehow able to finish.

It wasn't that he was mad for coming home late... it was just the factors making up the reason for his tardiness that angered him. His insane amount of homework, for starters, made him angry at that particular instance. Also, the fact that he was unsuccessful in the thing that was keeping him from going home also annoyed him. The fact that he couldn't help his best friend frustrated him.

The words that Kenny had said to him resounded in his head as he stared down at the geometry textbook on his desk. _I'm trying to figure out why you care so much, Stan... That sounded very homosexual just now..._ "No, I'm not like that," Stan told himself. "I'm only worried about his welfare."

Stan had said that the last time.

He wanted to absorb himself in his textbook, divert his attention to something else. It's not like he hated the whole idea of homosexuality; Stan had definitely proven that to be false. It was just that... he couldn't really see himself as liking another guy. 'It's okay for some people', Stan argued, 'but not for me.'

He began chanting the formula for the area of a sector under his breath, vision engrossed with circles and lines and points and rays. Yet the idea still stuck in his head. That idiot Kenny for getting the idea into his head. But wasn't Stan the one who barfed every time he saw Wendy Testaburger as a child? Was he not the one who was head over heels for pretty girls in his classes (and on occasion teachers)? For Stan, that was enough proof to say he was straight.

But did condemning himself of homosexuality make him a hypocrite on his views as a non-hobophobic?

"Elgh," sputtered Stan, slamming his book shut. He couldn't concentrate anymore; he was too worried about Kyle... in a best-friend way. He dragged his office chair over to his other desk, where his computer was situated. It had taken a lot of work to prove to his parents that he was capable of having his own computer. His mother was so paranoid of Stan looking up porn while she wasn't looking, and so Stan had to both promise that he wouldn't look up porn, and that only he would ever use his computer, or else severe consequences would occur. Even then, Mrs. Marsh sent her husband to check on the computer often.

He logged into Myspace, merely hoping to take a few minutes of break before he tried to dive back in to the most boring type of math ever. He also logged into AIM, just to make his cramming night interesting. Logging into AIM proved to be useful, however, because (to Stan's surprised) a certain boy was also logged in.

"Kyle?" Stan said to the empty room. He quickly IM'ed the boy, asking if he was all right. While he waited for the response, he looked under his friends' bulletins. A little sound from his computer told him that he had gotten a response.

"I'm okay," the response read. "My dad forced me out of the closet. I'm being forced to go to school tomorrow."

"Well that's good," Stan typed back, "so you you're not going to be like Tom Cruise with my closet. What's wrong with going to school, anyways?" Again he got no response, but that was rather excusable on the internet. He browsed his bulletins once more, but this time something caught his attention.

"**Antigsa.**" The bulletin had been posted by Cartman, but before Stan could open it Kyle's response had come through. It took Stan five seconds to decided whether he should read the bulletin first or answer Kyle; he chose the latter.

"I don't really want to say." That's it? Furious, Stan began typing a response.

"I don't know why you don't want to tell me these things. Is it because you don't trust me? Because I definitely trust you. Is it because you don't like me? Because I definitely like you-" Stan paused at those words for a second, "-Is it because you'd rather not say? Because I definitely rather you say. Kyle, I've known you for so long now, before preschool. I can't seem to comprehend why you wouldn't want to tell me." Stan hesitated for a few seconds, and then with a sigh he pressed enter. The good thing about instant messaging was that, though there was no personal interaction, things were a lot easier to say.

Stan turned his attention to Cartman's bulletin, which confused him. Antigsa? Was that even a word? Stan hovered the mouse over the blue link and clicked it, and then he began to read. As he progressed in the reading his eyes grew wider, and his lower jaw hung in shock. How could Cartman-?

The familiar sound from AIM brought him back to Kyle's conversation. "I'm just scared, Stan. Scared to face the population of our high school, who will probably reject me if they found out." Stan gulped; should he tell Kyle that they already knew?

"Trust me, I'll help you," said Stan. "I'll help you overcome those homophobic people... especially Cartman."

"Cartman?"

"It's a long story... he told the whole school already... and he's made a club called ANTIGSA."

"Antigsa? What's that?" And immediately after Kyle added, "I'm gonna kill him."

"Not Antigsa," Stan replied. "ANTIGSA. Anti-Gay Straight Alliance." There was a silence of reponses, and Stan could only guess what was going on. "Well Kyle, I have to leave now. I expect you to be at school tomorrow or else." And without waiting for a reply Stan signed off.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Have you heard from the fag yet?"

"I heard he's chicken of being picked on."

"I heard that one of his friends is a fag too."

Stan walked around that morning hearing those comments everywhere he went. It wasn't a very pleasing thing to hear, and even bringing it up would cause the accusations to be directed towards him. Basically said, he was in a lose-lose situation.

He found Kenny under the stairs as usually, and like the day before Cartman was not there. "Have you seen Kyle yet?" Stan managed to ask.

"Kyle?" asked Kenny. And then, after giving it some thought, "no, I haven't."

"Goddamnit, he'd better be here today," said Stan under his breath. For the next few minutes they began talking about other things, which included their previous homework, who would win their upcoming basketball team, and things of the sort. A few minutes before they were to depart, however, the topic landed back on Kyle.

"Did you talk to Kyle last night?" Kenny inquired. Stan nodded slightly. "I could tell. You're not fretting as much as you were yesterday."

"If he doesn't show up today I'll be worried," said Stan. "He said he'd show."

"I still think you care for him," said Kenny, smiling. Stan scowled.

"You said you cared for him too!"

"You know what I mean. In a... _deeper_ sense." Stan scowled, showing his disapproval of the statement. Kenny only continued; "You know Stan, if you hate the idea so much you could just join Cartman's homophobic club."

This stopped Stan in his tracks. "What? I'd never join that club! Cartman's a selfish and uncaring fat-ass. He exploits the weaknesses of his fellow classmates, but as soon as he's categorized under the same category he switched his views. It's so stupid."

"Then why are you so harsh in taking a homosexual joke about you?"

"That's different," muttered Stan under his breath. "I don't want Kyle to get an impression that I like him just because you make a joke out of it. You know I used to like Wendy, Kenny. If you make a joke that I care _deeply_ for Kyle and he comes to believe it... I don't want to have to be the one to tell him that it wasn't the truth."

"People change," said Kenny, suddenly widening his eyes and breaking direct eye contact with Stan. "Maybe you turned away from that liking."

"Goddamnit Kenny," said Stan, and at this Kenny was taken aback for his harshness. "I do not like Kyle! I don't see why I can't care for him and not like him at the same time! If it pleases you maybe I shouldn't care for him at all. THEN WHAT? Would you be willing to say otherwise? Well then fine. I DON'T CARE ABOUT KYLE" He stopped to catch his breath, and when he looked at Kenny he knew something was wrong. Panicking, he turned around to see how many people had heard him. By his surroundings, not many people had noticed (it was an empty hallway, after all). However, his eyes fell upon a lonely figure rested upon the wall, and as his eyes met the green eyes of the boy he turned away.

"Thanks a lot, Kenny," Stan muttered.

- - - - - - - - - -

That's chapter 4. Someone (you know who you are) reviewed and asked for longer chapters. Coincidentally, next chapter should be longer **(if I feel motivated enough to write it, I mean)**. I just didn't really want to make this one any more than it needed to be.

**REVIEWS**, please?


	5. Misconception

**Author's Note: **I definitely got more than three... so hence I return!

Someone asked me something regarding chapter titles? If you have any suggestions, definitely **REVIEW AND TELL THEM TO ME!** Right now, they are simply episode titles, reworded to fit my story.

Some **questions for the readers** at the end.

I am definitely going to give my most sincer thanks to _**CaliforniaHick**_, _**BroflovskiFan**_, _**iCk**_, _**Wolfbane2**_, _**Venus-gurl**_, _**xZAGRFAN**_, _**SomeRandomKyleBroflovskiFan**_, _**Nor Monisaux**_, _**Broken-SilverWings**_, _**Bloody Auzzie Bogan Mate**_, and _**Kazami**_ for all their reviews up to this point!

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan wasn't paying attention to his English teacher.

Of course he wasn't. Why should he? He had other things to think about, such as why he had been so resistant to him _possibly_ being homosexual, though he knew he clearly wasn't. Or maybe he was thinking about why Kenny was so persistent in the matter, and why he continued to challenge him of his emotions towards Kyle. Most likely though, he was thinking about how he had tried his best to not give Kyle any misconceptions that he liked him, when it turned out that now he gave Kyle an imperssion that he didn't care for him at all.

Misconception was a beautiful concept, and its true meaning is easily misconcepted.

Stan blamed Kenny for that. Or maybe it was his fault for forcing Kyle back to school. Or maybe it was his fault for... not liking Kyle_ "It's so weird,"_ Stan muttered under his breath. He could never imagine himself being gay anytime soon. It would ruin any reputation that he had ever built up. He would be shunned by his family for his _abnormality_. He knew it would make his life very different, and he wasn't ready to change.

But hanging around Kyle was already giving him a bad reputation. His family didn't talk to him as it was, being so consumed with other material things. How much different would being gay make him then?

Stan shook his head in complete frustration, and, though unknownst to him, he had gotten the attention of a small portion of the class. Stan had gone from simply refusing to accept the idea... to accepting the possibility and setting the stipulations. Yet as he grew readily frustrated his mind began a new thought... would it really be that bad? Stan wasn't sure if he knew the answer. Stan wasn't sure ie he wanted to find the answer. Stan wasn't sure if he would be able to find the answer. Stan wasn't sure if he should find the answer.

But Stan knew that he needed to know the answer. He needed to know it if he were to ever get Kyle back. He needed to know if if he were to ever come to terms with his emotional thought processes of late. And, consumed in the pursuit for this knowledge, he fell into a slumber.

- - - - - - - - - -

_"I really do want to tell you guys. You're my best friends, and so I think you deserve to know first…" The statement had made everyone stop walking away, Stan being the first to return to Kyle._

_"You can trust us," Stan replied, placing a comforting hand on Kyle's left shoulder. Stan could tell how nervous Kyle was, mainly because the boy was trembling and shaky._

_"I don't know why," began Kyle, his breath hanging in the air from the cold weather, "but I've been noticing something about myself lately. It feels weird for me to say something like this, especially since the typical teenager male spends his whole life trying to not be what I've perceived myself as being..." Stan looked at the other boys, hoping that the others had understood what Kyle was trying to say; the confused expressions on their faces proved otherwise._

_"For the sixteenth time, Kahl," said Cartman, "we don't care if you're a jew."_

_"It's not about that," said Kyle, and to Stan's surprise he hadn't addded an insult back at Kyle. "It's... I don't really want to say anymore..."_

_"Mmph mmph mmmmmph, mph mmph!" said Kenny._

_"I agree with Kenny," said Stan. Kyle sighed, unsure how to go about his situation now. He didn't really want to tell them straight out..._

_"Do you remember when we had this one substitute teacher, back in the third grade?" asked Kyle. "I know it's pretty hard to remember, but it was around Valentines Day."_

_"Mmph mmmph!" Kenny said happily. The other two boys gave a "ahh," being refreshed of the memory._

_"I remember her," said Stan. "Wendy was so pissed at me for having a crush on her. It's not like I was the only one! The whole class liked her!"_

_"Yeah, that was so funny," said Cartman, "just like that one time..."_

_"Mmph mmmmph mmph!" said Kenny. Stan and Cartman laughed._

_"You're so perverted Kenny," Stan said. "It's too bad that she was some Middle Eastern terrorist or something like that. What was her name again?" The two other boys shrugged, and it was then that Kyle and his problem were realized once more._

_"Ms. Ellen," Kyle replied, "but that's not the point. Remember what Chef had said about her?"_

_"That she was Vanessa Williams hot?" asked Stan._

_"Nooo, you idiot," corrected Cartman, "he said she was Pamela Anderson hot!"_

_"Mmmph mmmmph mph! Mmmph mmph mph!" snapped Kenny._

_"He's right," said Kyle, "but I'm not talking about that. Remember what he said about her wanting to make love to him?"_

_"Oh that!" yelled Stan ."She was a lesbian. We were trying to become lesbians after that."_

_"Goddamn, we were so stupid," said Cartman in his accent. "I mean sehriously, licking the carpet? Eating a cardboard box? My mom was stupid."_

_"Yeah, but it was only three years later that we found out what a lesbian really was," said Stan. "What's this getting at anyways, Kyle?"_

_"Well..." said Kyle. "You should get the idea by now..." When the three heads shook their heads, Kyle pouted. "Seriously? You don't get it?"_

_"No Kyle," muttered Stan. "We're not psychic. Just tell us, Kyle... it's okay."_

_"Mmmph mmph!" said Kenny._

_"Shut it Kenny!" snapped Stan. "That didn't count. All I did was say some random name and waited for someone in the audience to-"_

_"I think I might have got it, fellas," said Cartman, catching Kyle's attention. "Follow with me here... Kyle brings up Ms. Ellen's lesbian ways to make us connect it to something, yes?"_

_"...yes?" came the chantive reply of the three children. Cartman nodded._

_"Now follow with me here; it gets kind of complicated. Now if we were to connect this with Kyle's problem then what if... Kyle has realized that... he really is a lesbian?" Cartman looked aroun him, and found the facial responses not so pleasing._

_"Cartman, that is the dumbest thing you have said all week!" yelled Kyle._

_"Just tell us already," said Stan. Kyle nodded._

_"I'm..._ going to give you detention after school for sleeping in class today, Stan Marsh."

Wait, what?

"You're to be here no later than three this afternoon. Miss the detention and I'll be sure to miss typing in your grades for a while, Marsh." Stan grumbled, and made his way for next class.

- - - - - - - - - -

Lunch was an interesting time of day. It was the time of day when there was no schoolwork to do, no learning to be done, and no teachers to lecture. It was the time when the events over the course of the first half of the day were recounted, as well as when test answers were passed along. It was also the time when hungry stomachs were satisfied, chatterbox mouths were exercised, and lunchboxes took a large breath for air from suffocation.Though the cafeteria food wasn't quite as great as salisbury steak, it was still the best period of the day.

Sran took a seat at an empty table. He was typically the firs of the four to sit down, though today it could possibly be only three, depending on how mad Kyle was at him... or maybe two depending on Cartman's defiance of their friendship. Stan frowned at that thought; he really wanted the four of them to be together again.

Naturally, Kenny was the next to sit down, the only one who hadn't yet deserted him. Stan always felt bad for him because he was poor and didn't bring a lunch. Stan wanted to lend him some money on occasion, but Kenny refused to take any.

"Biology was a killer today," muttered Kenny. "The quiz is super hard, and it talks about some random BS." From there he proceeded to dictate some useful information to Stan. Yes, one of the pleasures of lunchtime.

"You know, she'll notice one day that 7th period's grades are better than 2nd's grades," muttered a familiar voice. Stan felt his insides jump.

"Kyle!" Kenny exclaimed. "Come stay a while!" Stan nodded, moving over to accomodate the boy. Kyle hesitated for a few seconds, and then sat down and placed his lunch tray on the table.

"Nah, you don't know our teacher very well," said Stan. Kyle, being advanced as he was, had already taken Biology online, and so while Stan, Kenny, and Cartman were all in Biology, he was taking Chemistry. "She's an old hag with amnesia. She can't put two and two together.

"Neither can you guys," said Kyle under his breath. Kenny failed to hear Kyle's comment, but it was still loud enough for Stan to pick up.

"If you weren't being so beat-around-the-bushy about it we could've put two and two together," replied Stan. Kyle frowned.

"If maybe you cared more about your friends you vould've been able to," snapped Kyle. "Oh wait, that's right! You _don't_ care about me!"

"Stop..." protested Kenny, but Stan continued.

"Maybe I do care about my friends," said Stan. "Maybe you percepted it completely wrong."

"How does 'I DON'T CARE ABOUT KYLE' mean something else?" said Kyle.

"The gridded square that predicts genetic inheritance is called..." stated Kenny, trying to rise above the other two.

"Maybe it means that I care for you in a completely different way," muttered Stan, causing the whole table to quiet down.

"You mean...?" began Kyle, but Stan cut him off.

"Yeah. Maybe I care for you as my best friend. Not as an acquaintance. Not as a oy with similar interests. Not as a _boyfriend_ like Kenny keeps suggesting." Stan could see Kyle's whole figure plummet back to his seat.He knew what Kyle wanted. And now he had stated that it was not what he wanted as well...

Misconception was a malicious concept, and its true meaning is easily misconcepted.

- - - - - - - - - -

**I need a proofreader. Tell me if you want in.**

**And also, I need ideas upon future chapters. tell me what you think should happen!**

**And of course, review**


	6. Of Closure and Stipulations

**Please read my author profile for some notes upon this story, thanks!  
**I've also lost track on what day of the week it is in the story, if I've mentioned one at all. So... if you have any idea tell me, while I try to look it up myself (hence why they've been going to school every day so far).  
Yes, ANTIGSA will come back to haunt us all... 0-0  
Thanks to **cjmarie** for proofreading!

- - - - - - - - - -

He had done it. He made it known to Kyle that he wasn't interested in him. He also told him that he still cared about him. It seemed to be everything that Stan had wanted to happen... right? He shrugged off everything that Kenny had said... proven him wrong... but was it worth it? Stan now knew that if it was really what he had wanted, then he had managed to get his point across. But what if inside he really had liked the idea? What if what he said only shunned his possibilities of ever getting anywhere with his friend?

Those fucking stipulations again.

That lunch period had ended in an awkward way. Normally the four would hang around until the bell rang, throw away their trash, and try to delay as much as possible into getting to class. Today was not to be so; Stan found himself leaving a miserable Kyle and a confused Kenny at the table well before lunch had even ended. He passed by a trash can to throw away his lunch, and walked out of the cafeteria.

He began turning left and right in the hallways, no longer sure where he was going. Was what he did really right? "_I didn't insult him,_" Stan told himself. "_I just stated what I felt... right?_" Was his method unconventional? Why did the method even matter?

"Oh hey Stan." The voice had torn through the train of thought that Stan had developed during his meandering. As soon as Stan realized where he was, he looked around for the owner of the voice.

"Oh, hey Butters."

"You seem kinda down," said Butters. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Stan lied. "I'm fine. I was on my way to the restroom."

"Oh, erm are you sure?" said Butters. "My dad always said 'If something ever bugs you, you gotta get closure. Otherwise... _you're grounded, mister._' Yep, that's what he says."

"I think I'm sure, Butters," said Stan. Closure... was that what he needed?

- - - - - - - - - -

"Stanley Marsh?" called a lady from a room. Stan was in a white-colored room, with only a few chairs to sit on. There was a desk, which was where another lady was seated. The only sounds in the room were a boy's nervous chatter and keystrokes from the lady at the desk.

He was in the school's guidance office, during seventh period. In the first segment of class, before he had decided to see the guidance counselor, he had been thinking of what Butters had said previously. Maybe telling someone was really a good thing. But wouldn't Kyle need it more?

Nevertheless, Stan decided to talk to someone. He asked his teacher to leave class to see a counselor, and though he was permitted to do so both the teacher and his peers looked at him as if he was crazy. Then again, maybe he was.

"That's me," muttered Stan. He got up and picked up his things before following the lady. He had never been to this part of the school before, in the whole semester he had been at school. In truth, Stan didn't think that he would ever have need to come here. I guess he was wrong.

"Take a seat," said the lady, and Stan complied. "My name is Ms. Sagisak. I believe that you wanted to see me?"

"Uh, yes ma'am," said Stan. "Well see, I have a problem. Over the last few days I've had problems with my friend. A few afternoons ago he told us that he was... well, homosexual. I didn't think of it at the time, but one of my friends turned on him immediately. He's the one that started ANTIGSA-"

"Oh, you must mean Eric Cartman," said the counselor. "Yes, I was against the club, but apparently your assisant principal is adamant in having it. Please continue, though."

"Okay, well then he started ditching school. This only lasted for a day or so, because his dad made him come out of his closet."

"That's an interesting case," muttered Ms. Sagisak. "A metaphorical concept, perhaps. He locked himself in a closet after, so to say, having just come out of one. But continue." Stan never thought of that, but he didn't dwell on it too much. There were other things to say.

"Then my other friend began saying things to me. They sorta freaked me out. It was as if he _wanted_ to date my gay friend just because... well actually, I don't know why. But he keeps telling me that he knows that I like the idea. So then to prove he was wrong, I straight out told him that I don't care for him.

"And that's where things went downhill. My friend had heard me and so he began thinking that I didn't care for him anymore, when in fact what I meant was that I didn't care about him in that way. And so at lunch today we had an argument, and I yelled at him, and now I'm here."

"I see..." said Ms. Sagisak. "I am still trying to figure out why you're here, as you haven't yet stated. But may I be permitted a guess?" Stan nodded. "I think that you're here because you didn't mean what you said in the lunchroom, and you're having a difficult time trying to tell this friend otherwise?"

"No," said Stan. "I'm here because I don't know at all if what I did was right. I don't know if I'm treating my friend fairly. I... don't know what I want..." There was a momentary silence in the room, and then...

"Stan, there are things only you can answer. But I can tell you this. Your friend is obviously suffering right now. He's having a hard time fitting in with your group now. I think at first he felt like he was accepted, but your change of heart has confused him. You should talk to him about these matters, not me.

"As for your other friend, I don't know what he's thinking. Maybe he really does think that you like him, and that it would be nice for the two of you together. Maybe he's bullying you, though as your friend I doubt that he would. Or maybe he is thinking of a more personal desire, and that maybe he is only using your name to express his own feelings. The mind works in a very complex manner, Stan."

"I don't think I could talk to him," said Stan. "I've hurt him enough, haven't I?"

"A friend always pulls through in the end," said Ms. Sagisak. "I'm sure that things will work out. If you need to talk to me again, my office will be open. I bid you good luck, Mr. Marsh." Stan said his thanks and walked out of the room.

- - - - - - - - - -

"And that's all she said?" Kenny asked as the last bell of the rang. Stan had told Kenny everything that the counsellor had told him, purposely leaving out the counsellor's remarks that referred to Kenny. "I think you should tell him too."

"Does it have to be today?" asked Stan. "Haven't I said enough to him about the topic in one day?"

Kenny shook his head. "I think you should do it today. The earlier you do this the earlier you two will be friends again."

"But I don't want to..." muttered Stan, looking away. "I still care for his welf- his... you know." Stan had tried to avoid using the word 'welfare' again, mainly because that was the sentence that had Kenny driving Stan insane. "Things could go wrong."

"Pussy," said Kenny, which shocked Stan. "You know Stan, I hate to say it, but... you're treating this as if _you're_ the one pining over Kyle, and that _you're _the one who's afraid of telling Kyle that you love him."

"That's bullshit," said Stan. "I already told you that I don't like him... in that way."

"Right Stan. But I'm just saying... that's really how you're acting." Stan scowled; this was becoming exactly like the previous occasion. Maybe that counsellor was right... Stan decided to try.

"Hey Kenny, what do _you_ think of Kyle?" Kenny immediately stopped talking.

"What?"

"I said, what do you think of Kyle?" The blonde boy couldn't mutter anything for quite some time; and as he fumbled in his speech Stan sighed under his breath. Ms. Sagisak was right; Kenny really did see something in Kyle...

"I think of him as a person deserving of someone who cares for him, but what I _see_ is that someone being a real jackass towards him."

Or not.

"I'm not being a jackass," snapped Stan. "Cartman was the jackass; he's the one that completely turned on his friend and made a club that completely murders who his friend is!"

"And what makes you think that that's not how he's feeling now?" said Kenny.

"I DON'T- wait, what?" And as Stan thought about the situation he knew Kenny had a point. How _did_ Kyle see him right now? Maybe in his eyes Stan was being a jackass as well. The words of the counsellor came back into his mind as he thought about it more.

_"I think at first he felt like he was accepted, but your change of heart has confused him. You should talk to him about these matters, not me. A friend always pulls through in the end..."_ He finally got was the two were trying to say... or did he? Stan wasn't even sure anymore...

"What makes you think that that's not hw he's feeling right now?" repeated Kenny. "Well, we'll find out soon enough. Kyle's coming here now." Stan snapped back into reality at the mention of Kyle's name. _The final showdown..._

"Hey Kenny," said Kyle, "hey Stan. What's... up?" Stan looked at Kyle, and he could tell how much Kyle was trying to keep it cool.

"Oh, nothing," said Kenny, "I was just trying to give Stan some psychiatric help here."

"Not cool," muttered Stan. Kyle's gaze turned towards Stan, and in response Stan immediately shifted his own towards the floor. Kenny was right; it really was as if the roles were reversed. He needed to do something about it... "Hey Kyle?"

"Yeah, Stan?" Silence.

"I..." Another silence.

"Stan?" A longer silence.

"I just wanted to..." Another long silence

"I'm waiting, Stan." An even longer silence.

"Nothing... it's nothing Kyle." He shook his head and turned to Kenny. "I'm going to go now." Without glancing at either of them he fled.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Stan, honey are you okay?" His mother's sweet voice rang through the hallway, and though however enticing it sounded he refused to say anything.

"Mom, I'm studying," Stan lied. In actuality, the boy was sitting at his desk, head buried in his arms. He was still contemplating what Kenny was saying... _as if you're the one pining over him_... But he knew that wasn't true... right?

"Oh all right dear," said Mrs. Marsh. "There's some orange juice in the fridge if you want any. I have to go to the bank and cash my paycheck, all right? Shelly will be here if you need anything." Stan gave a mumbled okay before he heard her leave.

"Goddamnit," muttered Stan. He knew he wasn't pining over Kyle; Stan was almost sure it was the other way around. But why did he have such a hard time confronting Kyle, a confrontation that was only to allow Stan to get the facts straight with Kyle? It wasn't like he was confessing anything.

"Now I know how hard it was for Kyle to tell us his secret that day," said Stan to his room. "It's hard enough saying even simple things. It must've been challenging enough to tell us something that big." He tapped his fingers on his desk, unsure as to what to do. Maybe he could instant message him... maybe he could go by his house and talk to him in a non-school environment. Or he could just myspace message him. But what if Kyle wanted to speak about the matter in person? What if he didn't even want to talk to him at all? What if-

"No, not if," said Stan. "No more possibilities. No more fucking stipulations."

Easier said than done, though.

- - - - - - - - - -

That's chapter 6... It's definitely not my favorite... I have to get back to my AP Chemistry work.   
I have my next update planned for next weekend, as usual... I'll say Saturday. Let's see... every **two** reviews will make me update **_one_** day sooner.  
I made an outline as to what will happen in the story up to chapter 14. So at least i know the spine of the story (no, it does not end at chapter 14)

Again, **_see my author profile for information regarding this story. And REVIEW!  
_**


	7. Coming to Terms

**AN:** First off, thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. I'll do the greetings on my tenth chapter.

**Look at my profile for some neat stuff and info. Sometimes it doesn't change, but occasionally I go back and give story notes, sneak peaks, and stuff. **Like last time, if anyone noticed, I added a note regarding Stan's detention...

I'm pretending Bebe's last name is Stevens (unless it really is). Fanfiction says Bebe S. and I think that Stevens sounds best.

**I decided to post this anyways, despite my Saturday claim. **So now, including the two reviews I've already received, every **_two reviews_** will make the update date one day earlier that Saturday (so thus, I'm currently set to re-update Friday).

And to the person who said I needed longer chapters... I'm working on it... they are sort of getting longer each time, no?

To my proofreader, I'm sorry I posted this before giving this to you. Rest assured though that your early-screening rights will resume after this chapter though :-D

- - - - - - - - -

The perfect time of day, without a doubt, was when the whole town of South Park was fast asleep. South Park clearly wasn't New York; there was absolutely no nightlife in the town. No one bothered to commit any crimes in the night, mainly because the only officer in the town, though there were still detectives and such, was so stupid that he couldn't even distinguish a real crime during the day. All the kids were fast asleep, and all the parents were either asleep or still awake, but in both situations in their rooms.

South Park was dead in the nighttime, but it was the perfect time of reflection and peace. Anyone could retreat to their cloister of a room and think about things that needed thinking of. Or maybe a student needed that tranquil moment to study for the next day's test. Or maybe someone needed that moment to think of why he or she married.

Or maybe you didn't want the moment, but you ended up needing it for some unsaid reason.

It was two in the morning in the early hours of Friday, and Stan was still awake. He had been tossing in bed for ages, unable to get even a wink of sleep. He couldn't tell you why he couldn't sleep, though he could tell you that he wanted to. After hours upon hours of twisting in bed he decided to give up, and walked over to his table and sat down. The case with Kyle was really starting to get to him. Since when was declaring 'I don't like you' so hard to do. Unless, of course, Kenny was right...

"Kenny isn't right!" said Stan. Why was Kenny so persistent in thinking that he liked Kyle? Maybe he really saw happiness between the two of them. Or maybe, as the counsellor suggested, Kenny was expressing his own desires through a different character.

"But he already told me what he thought of the situation," said Stan. "He said he was pissed at me for being a jackass." But was he telling the truth? Stan began thinking about Kenny's case. Maybe he was lying to cover up his own situation. After all, Stan was lying about certain things too...

Stan's mind brought him back to that day at Stark's Pond, where it had begun. Kyle, lost for words, speaking to the group. It wasn't easy telling the group he was gay, as Stan had figured out, especially with a homophobe like Cartman. If he had known how hard it was to come out then, maybe he could've supported his friend a little more.

Stan had remembered his initial reaction to Kyle's statement, and how it might have been interpreted differently. _"Kyle, are you sure?"_

_"I think," said Kyle. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and it seems logical when I look at it."_

_"You're not just supposed to think if you're gay or not based on logic!" snapped Cartman. "You're supposed to tell! You can't be all like 'hey! I like you, and so that makes me gay!" Nah, it doesn't work like that."_

_"Mmmph mmph!" said Kenny. Then he took his hood off, so that he could better be understood. "Yeah it can!"_

_"I've thought about it for the past few weeks," said Kyle defiantly. "I tried looking at girls; I tried looking at guys. And I liked guys better."_

_"You know," said Kenny, "there's always the bi option. What if you like both genders, but the male gender more?"_

_"No, I'm pretty sure." Stan could see that his friend was becoming saddened by this thought. "I knew I shouldn't have told you guys... now you're trying to convert me back or something, or even partially."_

_"Kyle, you know that's not true," said Stan. "We're just... trying to help you make sure that that's really who you are, and... stuff. I support you all the way, man."_

_"Yeah, me too!" piped in Kenny. Kyle smiled._

_"Thanks guys, I knew I could trust you..." Stan gave his best friend a nice and long hug, only to be interrupted by fake sounds of puking._

_"Aww, that's SICK!" yelled Cartman. "Cartman's a **Jew**, AND he's a **fag**!"_

_"Shut your fucking mouth, Cartman!" yelled Kyle and Stan at the same time._

_"Aw, and the Jew already has his own boyfriend," said Cartman. "This seems like perfect blackmailto me."_

_"Fuck off, you stupid fat-fuck!" snapped Kyle. "I told the three of you because you were my friends. I should never have trusted you."_

_"Well, you know what guys?" said Cartman, "I don't hang out with double-damned kids. Screw you guys, I'm goin' home..."_

_"He's not double-damned, damnit!" yelled Stan. "How are you to say that Jewish people go to hell? Or homosexuals?"_

_"Because my mom took me to see-"_

_"WE KNOW YOU'VE FUCKING SEEN IT!" snapped Kyle. "Mel Gibson's a lying ass."_

_"Well my mom made me read the Bible, and it says there that _men committed shameless acts with men and received in their own persons the due penalty for their error. _Homos go to hell!"_

_"Just go already," said Stan. Cartman laughed in his usual manner before leaving the three boys at the pond. Stan stared at Kenny for a few seconds, unsure as to what to do. Before he could say anything though he felt a weight in his arms._

_"I hate him, Stan,"Kyle said slowly, digging his face into Stan's chest. Stan didn't know how to take this, so he merely patted his friend on his back. "I don't know why I told him... now he's just going to ratt on me to the whole school... I hate him!"_

_"Kyle, I'm sure he won't. He may be a jackass but I think he still sees you as a friend. Let's just live this one out, okay?"_ Yeah, that definitely worked out 'okay'. Now the whole school's joining ANTIGSA, and Stan was sure that Kyle would be their first target...

- - - - - - - - - -

"I hope you all have had a wonderful day yesterday," said their English teacher, "especially to Stan, who completely skipped his detention."

"Sorry sir," said Stan apologetically.

"We'll talk about that later," said the teacher. "In advance I'd like to wish you a wonderful weekend as well. That being said, I am going to assign you all a project." The teacher earned a long wave of moans and groans from the students, which he had expected. "Since there are twelve of you, you'll be grouped into six groups of two. Any questions?" The teacher looked up and saw almost every hand up. Sighing, he pointed to the nearest student, Wendy Testaburger.

"Mr. Absenence, what is this project on?" About two other students yelled signs of agreement with her question.

"Well Wendy, it's going to be on famous poets. I'm sure you have some list of poets stashed in your mind. But more specifically, you are going to research how your assigned poet has contributed to the literary world. Any other questions?"

"When's it due?" asked Bebe Stevens.

"Your assignment is due Monday," said Mr. Absenence, gaining another wave of complaints. "You have the weekend to do your studying, and since this town is so small I assume that transportation is not an issue. Valid and reasonable medical emergencies will be excused, of course. Anything else?"

"Can we choose our own partners?" asked Butters Stotch.

"As much as I know you'd love to, your answer is no. My computer randomized some names, and that's how we'll play. Anything else?"

"If we get paired off with an ex-girlfriend," began Stan, making sure he glowered at Wendy, "can there be an exception?"

"That's very immature," said Mr. Absenence, "but we will see. And now we will see..." Stan waited patiently for his name to be called, and felt relieved when Wendy was paired off with Butters. "And that leaves Stan Marsh and Kyle Broflovski." Scratch relieved. Stan felt **sad** when Wendy was paired off with Butters. At least Stan and Wendy were in okay terms.

"Mr. Absenence, I object," said Cartman. The teacher looked at him quizzically.

"What's wrong with your partner, Bebe?"

"Absolutely nothing, sir," said Cartman. "I don't think Stan and Kahl should be together." Gulp. Not this. Not now.

"Eric, I think that your concerns should be left with your own group."

"But siiiiiir, I'm worried about their productivity," said Cartman, a sly smirk on his face. "I'm sure the two of them together will just have the making out the whole time instead of doing anything-"

"DAMNIT CARTMAN!" yelled Kyle. "SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!"

"Aw, he's piping up for his boyfriend," Cartman teased. Mr. Absenence made an attempt to halt the topic and moved on, but any attempts were hushed by Stan.

"Damnit Cartman, I am not gay!" yelled Stan. "Shut the fuck up before I-"

"All right, all right," muttered Cartman. "I don't hear the Jew defending himself though."

"He's not gay either," said Stan.

"Why can't he say it himself?" asked Cartman. "He's too fucking queer to admit it?"

"ALL RIGHT, NOW THAT'S ENOUGH!" The three boys stopped their speech at the angry tone of the teacher. In truth he wasn't really angry, but he needed to stop the subject somehow. Still, his intervening was too late. Stan and Cartman would've been at each others throats if Kyle hadn't been in tears. "Stan, can you walk your friend to the counsellor's office? I'll call ahead and tell them that your coming." Stan agreed, and helped his shaky friend out the door.

"Aw, Stan's helping his jewfag of a-"

"That'll do, Eric Cartman," said Mr. Absenence, continuing to his lesson and leaving a stunned class to only ponder at what had happened.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Never thought I'd be here again..." Stan said as he waited in the now familiar waiting room. He clearly recognized the lady at the desk, who must've thought he was a psychopath because he was here the second day in a row. The only difference now was that his best friend Kyle was leaning on his shoulder, still stiffling some tears. As he lay there Stan's mind was racing with ideas. Would now be a good time to talk to Kyle? No... Kyle's already gone through too much grief. But when would be the best time?

"I hate him," said Kyle. "Why is he-?"

"Shh, it's okay Kyle," Stan assured him. Was it really okay? Or was he lying again? Stan was now extremely confused, but he decided that he would worry about that later. As he was about to say something else Ms. Sagisak poked her head from her office.

"Kyle Broflovski?" Stan helped his friend up and walked him over to the lady. "Thanks Stan, I've got him from here."

"I can't come in?" asked Stan, but she shook her head.

"These are supposed to be confidential sessions, even if it's at school. I'm afraid you'll either have to wait or go back to class." With those words she shut the door in Stan's face. Stan most definitely didn't want to go to class, and so he hung around the reception room for a while He found a few magazines that had been lying around, and began reading.

"Plastic surgery, adoption, stem cell research..." Stan's eyes browsed through the many article titles, but none of them seemed to interest him. Of course, Stan wasn't the type to read magazines leisurely, but at least something should've interested him. What would they be talking about in there? What would she tell him about Cartman? About Kenny?

About him.

Stan's mind raced with ideas. Could Ms. Sagisak put two and two together? Would she realize that he had come in there not a day before to discuss the same issue? Stan hoped that Kyle was telling his problem hypothetically, or perhaps without saying names as Stan had done. Still, the same result seemed inevitable.

It seemed like forever (yet still within the same period) when Kyle had strode out of her office. He was in much better spirits, seemingly, but that was probably because he had had the chance to calm down. Stan smiled to greet his friend, and together they left that building.

"Stan?" said Kyle, turning to his friend. "About you yelling that you didn't care for me..."

"Kyle, I didn't-" began Stan but Kyle interrupted him.

"I know what you meant. You don't care for me in that way. And I'm okay with that." There was a silence between them, and neither boy seemed to want to ruin it. Still, Stan needed to get a few things across.

"You don't... mind?" said Stan. Kyle shook his head.

"In my heart, yes I do mind. I see you as the only person I could ever care for, perhaps the only person who would truly see me for who I am, and not a homosexual jewish boy with obnoxious red hair. But I'm also okay with you being as my best friend, someone I can still trust, and someone I can rely on when I need someone the most. That's really all I care about, and if you can't return the feelings I feel for you then I can still settle with friends." Stan couldn't believe what he was hearing. Was Kyle being serious? He was basically doing what Stan had wanted to do since... who knew now?

"Kyle, I-"

"So do we have a deal?" asked Kyle. Stan looked at his friend unbelievingly. There were so many things that Stan wanted to apologize for, so many things that Stan wanted to say. Instead, he restrained himself, and only had the heart to say,

"We have a deal... Kyle."

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No! Tis not the end! Of course not! The angst hasn't even started yet!

Expect some friendship betrayal, ANTIGSA intervention, self-realization, and other things to come into play.

Oh, and _next chapter_... Cartman vs. Marsh in a heated debate in American Government?


	8. Des Débats et des Lettres Françaises

**AN: **Chapter 8... I didn't think I would get this far...

**You guys are AWESOME!** So you forced me to post 4.5 days earlier than I should have. That's insane. So here's your chapter. Not as much Stan-Kyle stuff, but that's what next chapter is for.

In this chapter, we see Cartman advocating anti-homosexuality, and Stan siding with acceptance of it and such. Perfect stuff for Cartman, of course...

In advance, I have no idea what case to put up for the con side. But, as you will read later, I do need HELP on getting some CON arguments. Review and tell me why homosexuality would be a bad thing... yeah, hard to write about, I know

And French letters to ensue. Because I don't care how close to Mexico Colorado is, I'm making them take up French in high school :)

Next update is going to be... Monday the 25th. Again, every **_two_** reviews bumps it up a day.

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Stan chose to not dress out in PE that morning. It wasn't that he had forgotten his uniform. Not dressing out in PE gave you a 0 in class participation for that day. It wasn't a friendly option to take, since getting a B in a personal fitness class was perhaps the biggest laugh ever. Yet, Stan chose to no dress out. He was too occupied with other matters to care about basketball or dodgeball. He just wanted to think about how Kyle had been the one to put them back on speaking terms. Not Stan, who was taking forever in just going up to him. It had been Kyle, the boy Stan thought would be the most affected by the topic. Goes to show how much nerve Stan had.

But it still felt weird. Kyle's miniature speech had gotten Stan consumed with thought for the rest of the previous English period. He barely registered that his new detention date would be set for that afternoon. He barely registered Cartman's insults about the supposed makeout session he and Kyle had in the restrooms. He barely registered that their project was to be on Edgar Allen Poe. He didn't even remember ever going out of the class, or walking towards the gymnasium, or even telling his coach that he wouldn't participate that day. He was just too consumed with thought.

_I see you as the only person I could ever care for..._ somehow that touched Stan more than he would've liked to. Of course, any compliment would make any person's day lighten up. But Stan felt as though this was a different matter. Yet why, he wasn't sure. Why would it matter to Stan that he was the only person Kyle could ever care for? Was it the guilt? Was it the pain that Stan was causing Kyle for not liking him back, as well as ruining Kyle's only chance of love in the boy's eyes? Was it because Stan felt that he wasn't caring for Kyle as much as he should've been?

_...perhaps the only person who would truly see me for who I am..._ Stan was sure that he wouldn't be the only one... right? He was sure that Kenny was supporting him, though not entirely sure up to what extent. He knew, of course, that Cartman was clearly not supporting him with his whole ordeal. But what about his family...? Surely they would still accept their son if they knew.

...wouldn't they?

_...I'm also okay with you being my best friend, someone I can still trust, and someone I can rely on when I need someone the most..._ Kyle was unintentionally sending Stan on a guilt trip. It's not that Stan wanted to feel bad, but... was he not entitled to his own feelings, too? But then he supposed that's why Kyle presented him the best friends option.

"Now I just have to keep it that way," said Stan as he watched a girl dribble the ball down the court. He just hoped that Kyle - they - could act as if nothing had happened again.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Think of any controversial topic you can think of," said Ms. Kitorese, Stan's American Government teacher. Stan sat at the front of his class due to assigned seating, which took away any possibility of him sleeping through the class (there were three rows, five seats across, to accomodate fifteen students). "After we've accumulated a list we'll pick a topic to argue about. We're going to do a debate, and though it won't be the same format professionals use, it's still a workable format. We're going to have two debates; the first one today, without any background research. Then, over the weekend, you will study the issue, and on Monday we will have a full-fledged argument with references and reliable information.

"Now first we'll need a few topics. Last period's class came up with _abortion, stem cell research,_ and _capital punishment._ They chose capital punishment, so this class can't use that topic. Does anyone else have any suggestions, though?" She then stopped talking to let the class catch up to her speed. Ms. Kitorese had a huge reputation for speaking insanely fast, and this had been one of the frequent occasions where she had lost her students. However, within a five second period hands were beginning to be raised into the air.

"Freedom of speech!"

"Freedom of religion!"

"Affirmative action!"

"Censorship!" The class began listing a myriad of ideas, some even surprising the teacher. Apparently her last class had only thought of three ideas. Her handwriting capability was speedy enough to catch everything down on the board, and when she had caught every person's idea she placed her marker down to address the class.

"Well... this seems to be a lot of ideas. More than my last class at least..." And then she took a poll from the class. After a few minutes, she came to a conclusion. "It would appear then that homosexuality would be our debate topic today. Now I don't want anything to go off hand. We're here to address the issue, not the followers or believers. We need a few people to do today's debate, and another few on Monday. First we'll need todays debaters. We need a presenter from both sides, as well as a cross-examiner and someone to make a rebuttal for the pro side."

"I want to be the presenter for con!" said Craig, an athletic boy who was one of the clearest examples of a jock in existence. He wasn't afraid to use the f word, or even flick someone off. In truth he didn't care what anyone said, even his own teachers. "Gays are gay, and-"

"Wait a few more seconds on me, Craig," said Ms. Kitorese. "I have five more empty positions."

"I'll take cross-examiner for con, ma'am!" said Cartman enthusiastically. Ms. Kitorese acknowledged this remark, and then started talking about needing people on the other team. Stan pondered if he should take part in the event.

"Let me remind you that merely sticking up for the homosexual position does not in any way influence the class's view on your orientation. In addition, anyone not taking part in the debates will have to write the key points of the debaters on each side." With this she got an immediate surplus in volunteering, though still not enough to fill every position. "Hmm, Stan how about you fill in as presenter for the pro side?"

Shit.

"Uh, me?" asked Stan, hearing Cartman's snickering. He would be examined by Cartman... how exciting.

"Perfect. Please arrange yourselves with your groups as I go over some basic procedures. There is a time restraint in your presentations, so I don't want any filibusterings or such. As I said before, you're discussing the issue and not those who support it. Play fairly, respect each other's opinions, and... other than, I think that's it? Let's start." Stan looked awkwardly at his team, Butters and Pip. Just... perfect. "We'll start with the pro side. Stan, can you please step up?" Stan felt himself shaking as he walked up to the podium. Thank god Kyle wasn't in the classroom. He saw Kenny's face, who seemed to support him; he drowned out Cartman's laughter.

"Students and teacher," began Stan, "I would first like to introduce you to what exactly is homosexuality. A denotative definition of the word may go along the lines of 'sexual desire or behavior directed toward a person or persons of one's own sex', but I do believe that it is more than that. I think that the issue is also a diverse culture, a religion, and a dogma. It is more than a person's feelings or emotions. It's their characteristic.

"It is my job today to not convert or force you into believing or following homosexuality, but to explain why the topic is considered an okay thing to be a part of, if you happen to be so. Homosexuality is a characteristic of a person. It is just as much of a characteristic that defines a person as heterosexuality would define most other persons. It makes up a person, and it's uncommoness can make a individual unique. I do not believe, then, that any of you would make fun of someone for having yellow hair, for having freckles, or for being hyper. Why should these characteristics differ from this one?

"Homosexuality also ties in with the issue of faith and religion. I am sure that many here are religious in many ways, whether Catholic, protestant denominations, Jewish, or Muslim... and anything else. I am also sure that sometime in your religious lifetime you have been told that liking someone of the same gender is wrong, or something along those lines. I am not sure about all your beliefs, but my own belief states that God loves us unconditionally. Homosexuality is not to be an exception.

"Perhaps another thought that I would like to pass on to you is the discrimination that Adolf Hitler committed. He hated both the Jews and the homosexuals-" He stopped to hear Cartman snickering; Cartman tended to look up to Hitler. "-in the Holocaust. Still, we were able to get over the persecution of Jews. Why not the homosexuals?" As Stan finished his improv speech - a very good improvised speech at that - half of the class burst into applause. Unsure why he got this, Stan made his way back to his seat.

"You have to stay there for the cross-examination, Stan," said Ms. Kitorese. "Eric, please proceed."

"Most certainly," said Cartman stepping up. "Now I recall that you mentioned something about characteristic, yes?"

"Yeah..."

"But say we really were to hate other characteristics, such as ginger kids or jewish people, Then are we to still respect this one? Do you base this upon the idea that we treat characteristics based how we treat others, like in your case, or to respect this particular characteristic only."

"Respect all characteristics," said Stan. "Not necessarily to follow your other beliefs, but to respect each individual one."

"Did God not condemn the men who committed homosexual acts?" asked Cartman, "as stated somewhere in Romans?" Stan wondered how Cartman knew that; then again he did found ANTIGSA."

"But he also said that love is unconditional," replied Stan. "He loves his daughters and sons very much, in that regard."

"Now about Hitler. Why should we get over his persecutions? Who says that what he believes in must change? Getting over the Jews doesn't mean that we have to get over the gays."

"True. But it is still a reasonable argument, going back to the idea of characteristic equality."

"Speaking of overlapping ideas," said Cartman, and it seemed as if almost immediately Stan knew where he was getting at, "what would you say to a person that was hated for being Jewish and a homosexual, equally hated, both hated by Hitler, and both condemned by God?"

"Well-" As Stan was ready to answer, Ms. Kitorese chose to intervene.

"Well that's enough for that, or else we'll run out of time. Craig, may you please proceed?"

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan was actually quite thankful that their teacher had cut off the debate. He knew that it would have gotten ugly if Cartman had heard Stan's reply. Of course Cartman was talking about Kyle, and Stan wasn't about to let him run all over his best friend.

Stan was now sitting in his french class, bored out of his mind. His teacher was very fluent in the language, which was always a good thing. However, she almost never spoke English, and for French I students that was pretty much a problem. Stan had chosen French over Spanish because it seemed a lot more interesting to learn, and because Cartman had taken Spanish.

He glanced over at Kyle, who was reading a french textbook across the room. The small amount of French students meant that it would only be offered in one class period, and just like in almost everything else Kyle wasn't at the same grade level as Stan was. While Stan was stuck trying to learn French I Kyle was already teaching himself French III material. Kyle was a genius...

Kyle was embracing himself in his orange jacket as he read his book. Kyle had worn the jacket since he was twelve. Stan clearly remembered in his mind how Kyle had lost his old jacket, which was also orange, and how he refused to accept another jacket. Stan had gone out to buy a very similar jacket, only different sized, and gave it to Kyle's parents to give to Kyle. Oddly enough, Kyle hadn't noticed the difference.

"Alors, aujourd'hui nous allons apprendre l'imparfait..." Stan definitely didn't understand what his teacher had said, and hoped that Kyle would be able to help him during lunch or something. Bonus points for being friends with smart people.

An idea suddenly popped into mind, though Stan was sure that it was pretty random. He pulled out his french textbook and his french dictionary, as well as a sheet of paper. Stan lifted his pencil and wrote on his paper, "Cher Kyle."

Yes, he was going to write a letter to Kyle. Why? He wasn't sure. But he just felt like writing in french. The letter to Kyle was just perhaps a motivation. He then continued to write, and though he had to look up almost every other word up, as well as having to look up verb conjugations constantly, he managed to get somewhere.

As the class period grew closer to an end, Stan had finished. He looked over his fairly short letter and felt proud of himself.

_J'écris en français! Je veux te parler plus tard. Mais maintenant je souhaite que l'école finirait. Au revoir! _

It was rather pathetic, yes. But Stan was still proud of his accomplishment. And as class ended he passed the five-sentence (including the greeting) note to Kyle and walked happily into the lunch room, leaving Kyle confused and holding a very small note in his hands.

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I think I'm done with chapter 8. Please review and stuff.

**For some info on chapter nine, visit my profile**. _REVIEW!_


	9. The Silence Before the Plunge

_**My proofreader disappeared, so this is self-revised. **_So ignore any mistakes, unless they're super-major or something.

Stan and Kyle made up, and they're hanging as friends...

**Yes, **that means that they are in speaking terms and will be talking to each other**  
No, **it does not mean that any chances between them are gone completely. Or else this story would already be done, right?

Every **_two_** responses bumps update date a day. Current update will be on Friday 29th.

My myspace, if any of you should want to contact me easier, since I'm on it so much, is **_jbd420ct_**. (insert that after the normal myspace address... you know what i mean...)

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**Review Responses! (chapters 5-8) - **Since I do not want to wait until chapter 10  
**Aurifex - **Yay! I got her last name right. That's rather interesting how I got that right. And i love your 17-letter-long word, lol  
**Coffeey -** Thanks for reviewing! Haha, you'll see soon enough how Stan changes his view on Kyle... in the meantime though...  
**Venus-gurl -** I'm glad you like it. A fellow reviewer has actually translated the sentence as a review, but the significance of what it says isn't very important.  
**Bookyboo -** Hooray for French! Or at least paying attention in it, lol. Thanks for reviewing!  
**Bloody Auzzie Bogan Mate - **Thanks for the review. Again, the translation is on the reviews page courtesy of Bookyboo  
**SomeRandomKyleBroflovskiFan -** Thanks for reviewing! Yes Kyle loves Stan... but his resolvement to accept lower standards may come as a problem in later chapters... cough  
**Nor Monisaux -** You haven't reviewed in a while, but thanks for your support so far! Your ideas are actually pretty good, and I might consider it, either in this chapter or the next. Keep reading and stuff.  
**cjmarie -** I couldn't forget you, of course. Thanks for proofreading all this stuff! I most definitely appreciate it, even though you detest French, haha.

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The lunchroom was a very busy place on Fridays. It was extremely loud as everyone began to share their weekend plans. Friday was also when the cafeteria served their best food, which contributed to even more excitement. The daily dose of gossp was also being passed around. And of course, Friday was test day, and so test answers were being sold for unbelievable prices.

The three boys were seated at a table, and though the absence of Cartman was still an awkward thought they had gotten used to it. Stan and Kyle sat next to each other, and the two were reading through biographies and works of Edgar Allen Poe that Kyle had checked out a few moments before. Kenny could only sit and eat his lunch as the red-haired boy took furious notes on the material he was reading. Stan wasn't as rapt about the subject as Kyle was, but he managed to write down a couple of key points.

"Are you going to eat your sandwich?" Kenny asked. Kyle shook his head, and Kenny was quick into snatching it from Kyle's area. Kyle began to mutter things under his breath, and Stan supposed that he was reiterating key facts. Stan looked at his own list of bullet points and frowned upon how small his was.

"Kyle, how much notes do you have?" Stan asked. "I can't really figure out what to jot down." Kyle glanced up from his book and turned to look at his partner's notes.

"We're trying to figure out how each part contributed to the literary world," Kyle replied. Then, glancing at Stan's paper, he added, "you didn't write down very much..."

"That's what I said," Stan said, "I can't really figure out what to jot down."

"Well... just write whatever. We'll figure something out." Kyle gave Stan one last shrug before turning back to his book. Stan gave a frustrated sigh before following suit.

"Hey Stan," Kenny piped in, now that the previous conversation had ended, "that was a really inspiring speech you gave earlier today." Stan felt his face heat up at this compliment.

"I'm not sure how I did it," muttered Stan. "I guess I wanted to tell Cartman my reasonings against that stupid ANTIGSA club he made." Stan could see Kyle's head rise up from the mentioning of the club.

"I think Cartman was the only one who didn't applaud you," Kenny continued. "I even caught Craig clapping to your speech."

"What was your speech on?" asked Kyle, though Stan was sure that Kyle already knew.

"We did this debate in American Government today," explained Kenny, "where we were supposed to argue on a controversial topic. We ended up talking about homosexuality. Stan wasn't supposed to debate about it, but Ms. Kitorese chose him to speak because no one else wanted to."

"I see..." said Kyle slowly. "What side did you take, Stan?"

"Pro," muttered Stan. This was clearly not a confortable subject.

"It was pretty good for improvisation," continued Kenny. "Now he's just got the weekend to come up with something even better."

"On Monday Cartman's presenting con," said Stan. "He's probably going to slaughter the whole gay community with what he's going to say. His views are so extreme sometimes... you know him and his persuasive self." He frowned at his friend, who had hung his head. "Don't worry Kyle, I'll get something together. Though if I could... well, never mind."

"What Stan," muttered Kyle weakly.

"Could I.. interview you and stuff...?" Stan couldn't see it, but Kyle had grown a rather shocked facial expression at the sound of the idea. "I mean, I mean... I need personal views on the matter and stuff... and I won't mention your name either, Kyle. I promise." Stan's gaze never left Kyle, who had still refused to return his gaze. Kenny sat in front of them, across the table, and at the moment he felt rather uncomfortable. Eventually Kyle gave a nod to approve Stan's request, but only raised his head slightly in doing so. Stan was confused; why was Kyle so afraid of looking at him?

"I'll see you later guys," said Kyle, closing his books and packing his things. "Stan, after your detention you can stop by my house to work on the project. I guess you can interview me then too..."

"Thanks," replied Stan as his friend walked away. Then he turned to Kenny.

"I'm going to be so screwed on Monday," Stan sighed, looking at his own lunch now. Somehow the lettuce, ranch, and the roast turkey didn't interest him much anymore. "Cartman's gonna murder me; I know it."

"You'll do fine," replied Kenny, taking a bite out of Kyle's sandwich. "Just do your research... there's gonna have to be some argument to help your case. And that interview with Stan may give you a non-factual edge, if that makes sense at all."

"But what if that interview upsets Kyle?" Stan asked. Kenny glared at Stan.

"You know Stan, it amazes me how you actually _don't_ like Kyle, based upon how you react to him. But he already agreed to it. You'll both be fine." And as the bell rang to hinder any response Stan might have had, Kenny stuffed the rest of his sandwich into his mouth and fled to class.

- - - - - - - - - -

The rest of the day seemed to pass rather quickly. Perhaps it was because the second half of class was a period shorter than the first, and because he had more relaxing classes towards the end of the day. Whatever the reason truly was, Stan found himself standing in front of his English teacher's room earlier than he would have liked to be there. Sighing with contempt, he twisted the doorknob to begin serving his detention.

Mr. Absenence didn't bother talking to him, merely dismissing Stan to sit down in any of the desks. Stan took a seat near the front so that when he was done serving his time he could escape rather quickly. He had remembered the rules of Mr. Absenence's detentions, as his teacher had explained it to the class on the first day of school. _Detention is not a study hall; you will sit at your desk and remain quiet, doing absolutely nothing except for staring at the board. No exceptions._

"You're here until 3:30," muttered Mr. Absenence as he browsed through the daily newspaper's comics. Stan sighed and immersed himself with the whiteboard. It was rather dirty, as Stan had come to notice, and the writings upon the board were difficult to read because of all the eraser marks. Stan stared at the board for several long minutes before having to stare at something else. He wished that Mr. Absenence didn't take down his clock simply because of detention.

Stan glanced upon all the posters that were plastered on the wall, many of them being visual representations of literary terms. He glanced at onomatopoeia, which he could never spell properly without saying it phonetically (O-no-MA-to-PO-ei-A). Then his glance fell upon metaphor, which had a garden hose being compared to a snake. He glanced upon a few more posters, bored out of his mind, when an odd fellow burst into the classroom.

"Is this where Stan Marsh is?" asked the man. Stan looked at the man and had a hard time suppressing his laughter. The man had thick glasses with many pens in his left shirt pocket. Although he wore a white overcoat (similar to a doctor's) Stan could still see that his shirt was tucked in, and his pants raised past the waist. Basically, he was a grown-up nerd, and it amused Stan how he was a doctor (or seemingly), basically completing a standard stereotype of nerds being successful.

"That's me," Stan replied, eyeing the stranger with curiosity.

"I'm a doctor at Hell's Pass," said the man, raising his right hand to push his glasses up by the bridge, "and your presence at the hospital has been requested immediately."

"Now, now, mister," said Mr. Absenence, talking to Stan, "you're serving detention. You ain't going-"

"But this might be an emergency!" said Stan, rising from his seat. "Please Mr. Absenence, can't I just make it up on Monday?"

"Not again!" yelled his teacher, but the man had chosen to intervene.

"I'm sorry sir, but this is a rather important matter. The boy is in an unconscious state, and Stan's presence is greatly requested by the boy's mother." And with a irritating grumble Mr. Absenence relented, and Stan was excused.

- - - - - - - - - -

"We haven't been properly introduced," said the man as he sped away from the school. "My name is Doctor Pelotazul, and I'm a doctor at Hell's Pass, as I said earlier. And of course you must be Stan." There was an awkward silence, before the doctor added; "You're awfully quiet, Stan."

"I'm sorry," said Stan as the man made his way to the hospital, "but I was so carried away that I forgot to ask who was it in the hospital..." Stan was sitting in the passenger seat of the man's car, which was a brilliant shade of blue. Stan had to admit that it was a rather nice car, and that perhaps the doctor profession wasn't too shabby. He wasn't really sure what he wanted to do, but being a doctor wasn't very high on his list.

"Well..." He took his hand off the wheel to push up his glasses, and then scratched his chin. "I'm not exactly sure. I was just sent to get you from wherever you are, and one of your friends said that you had detention."

"Was he in orange clothing?" Stan asked. He, of course, was referring to Kenny, who had a habit of dying. As he grew older his death frequency had lessened, but he still died unexpectedly at times.

"I do believe he was," said the man. "I faintly remember his mother having red hair as well."

"Yeah that's him," concluded Stan. He no longer felt as worried knowing that it was Kenny, but it had still been a good excuse. For the rest of the ride Stan remained quiet. Perhaps Kyle was already there, and maybe even Cartman. His calmness disappeared at the thought of Kyle and Cartman in the same room. Stan was ready for whatever awaited him behind those hospital doors.

And yet as he entered the room he couldn't help but break down and immediately exit the room.

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I think that's where I'm ending chapter nine... I'm starting to get somewhere... I hope.

I'm not getting as many reviews as I would've hoped, but I'm still continuing for the five or six people I'm sure are still following me.


	10. The Enigma of Calamities

**Author Notes: The beginning is over!one!exclamationpoint!eleven!**

**I'm posting this as a gift. **You weren't supposed to get this until... Tuesday evening. Haha  
From now on things are going to be... not as mundane. Like I won't be describing what happens each period of the day, as I have been doing. I also hope that these chapters will be longer... can't promise _that_ much.  
I can't believe I'm on my tenth chapter. I usually give up on stories after a month or so. Hopefully this doesn't become the same thing. I wish I'd get more reviews... it's the only real measure I have as to who likes and dislikes my story... I can only tell the frequency of hits.

I'm glad I fooled someone... though most of you guys figured it out :pouts:

**Myspace: **I go on myspace like every ten minutes. Seriously. If you would like my myspace address, click on homepage on my profile. The URL should be jbd420ct.

_**Six reviews**_ to continue. I'll make update on Sunday October 1st at the latest. **Three reviews** (including the six requirement) to boost the update a date earlier. Naturally, that means you get two free days if you want me to continue.

First paragraph or so courtesy of _Crazy English_.

* * *

_Calamity_. 

It's a rather interesting word. It sounds very similar to calm, but lands nowhere close in definition. In fact, calamity is a synonym of disaster, a place where someone definitely will not find calm. Why would someone make such words so similar in sound if they were to mean totally different things? Ask the person who decided that people talk _on_ the telephone, or the person who said that we play in recitals and recite in plays. English was a very odd language, even though some might choose to deny it.

So when Stan walked into the room he could only comprehend a few things. The first thing he noticed was the very bright orange in a room with white bedsheets, white walls, and doctors in white coats. The second thing he noticed was a doctor to the side, talking to someone he could not see. The third thing was what he had said, and having heard "calamity" and "calm" in the same conversation confused him in the state he was in.

He had gone running out the door not knowing what to do. How could he have forgotten that Kyle had worn an orange jacket that day? Stan had remembered staring at Kyle in French, and contemplating about how he had gotten the jacket. And yet... it had slipped his mind when he was informed of someone being at the hospital clothed in orange?

Stan knew that sulking outside the room wasn't going to help Kyle any. Yet he couldn't put himself up to seeing Kyle unconscious. He had gone through this phase before; in one of Kenny's more aching deaths, Stan couldn't put himself to staying with Kenny during his terminal sickness. But in this case... it wasn't even life-threatening, and Stan still couldn't be in the room. Maybe Stan just didn't like hospitals.

Someone had followed Stan out of the room. Stan didn't bother trying to figure out who had done so. It had probably been some doctor trying to cheer him up. He didn't want that right now. That was one of the reasons why being a doctor wasn't very high on his list. It was their job to cheer up their patients, and Stan knew how little they really meant it. Doctors went through that stuff every day, and didn't even understand how hard it truly was because they were so accustomed to it. They could only _sympathize_ and could not show any _empathy_. Again, another confusing thing about English.

At first he was choleric when a hand tapped him from behind. He bit his lower lip and swiveled on his left heel, grabbing the person behind him by the collar, and pushing him to the wall. However, noticing Kenny's scared face pushed up against the wall changed his attitude, and Stan dropped Kenny back onto his feet. Before Kenny could do anything Stan turned his back against Kenny and began walking away.

"It's not your fault Stan," Kenny called out through the halls. Stan stopped walking but didn't move, and so Kenny saw this as an opportunity to continue. "Kyle and I were walking home from school when Cartman and a few other guys stopped us. They knocked me out cold. I mean, Cartman's gang pack powerful punches. Afterwards they, erm... beat up Kyle... for reasons you should already know." Kenny hung his head in dismay, not noticing Stan walking back towards his friend. "If this should be anyone's fault, it's gotta be mine."

"What fault would be yours?" Stan muttered. "You were unconscious; if I hadn't landed myself in detention I might have been able to help you."

"How was that your fault?" asked Kenny, and after saying this he realized how stupid it was to be choosing someone to blame. "Let's not worry about whose fault it is..."

"Fine," muttered Stan, shoving his hands in his pockets. "But what're we going to do?"

"The doctor mentioned some things," said Kenny. "Let's go inside and ask him. Besides, Kyle needs us with him right now." Kenny led Stan back into the room, where nothing much had changed. The doctor had finished talking with the mystery person, who was clearly Ms. Broflovski. Ike sat in a blue plastic chair beside Kyle's bed. Mr. Broflovski appeared not to be present.

Stan felt a sickening lurch in his stomach as he approaced the bed. He didn't want to see Kyle lying on the bed; Kyle didn't deserve to be there, unconscious. Instead, Stan decided to look at Ike instead, who seemed equally worried as he was, though not as cowardly.

_Cowardly_.

"The doctor says he'll be alright," said Ike, his higher pitched voice startling Stan for a second. By the tone of his voice Stan could tell that at some point Ike had been crying. "He only suffered some bruises. They say he should get better overnight."

"Well that's good," said Stan, refusing to stop staring at Ike. Only a little more to the right would mean...

"Well I talked to the doctor!" exclaimed Kenny suddenly, joining Stan by his side; Stan hadn't even noticed that Kenny left him after they both entered the room. "He says that a good night's sleep should be good enough. There's nothing we can really do now." Ike nodded in comprehension, and then he picked his feet off the floor and hugged his knees to his chest. Kenny sat down beside Kyle's brother and wrapped an arm around the boy.

"I'm scared," he said softly. "Kyle was a good kid, and he got beat up. When I go to high school... I'm sure everyone's gonna gang up on me. Even now... they make fun of me because I'm Canadian." Stan clearly remembered the day Ike found out that he was adopted. At first the boy threatened to find his true parents and live with them forever. But then Kyle had told him the story how he felt the same way, and as much as he wanted to disown his younger brother Ike convinced him that love was about who you cared for the most.

"Don't worry," said Kenny, patting Ike on the back. "Let's not worry about that right now. Plus I doubt that'll happen. You're a brave kid."

"And Kyle's not?" snapped Stan so suddenly that he found himself in shock.

"What? Stan, I didn't say that?" There was an awkward silence between the three boys, with Stan trying to figure out for himself why he had said that. It was then when Mrs. Broflovski decided to usher the boys out of the room, stating that there were other matters to attend to at the moment.

- - - - - - - - - -

When the three boys were allowed to visit Kyle again, they didn't waste any time into rushing to his side. The nurse had instructed them that they had until nine to talk to him and spend time with him, which gave them an hour. Stan grumbled on how little time that was, but in the end the three boys declared an agreement with the nurse.

Kyle still could not respond to them, and the three boys were continuously assured that he would be able to by morning. Stan continued to avoid looking at Kyle, which had become harder once their group had Kyle in the middle. Stan made excuses to walk around the perimeter of the room to look at certain gadgets and plaques.

"He'll be fine, Ike," said Kenny. "I'm sure Kyle will be able to get through it." Stan wondered if Kyle could hear what they were saying. Could Kyle hear his surroundings? Could he feel people touching him? The nurses had said that he couldn't respond to them. Perhaps there was a chance that Kyle knew what was happening around them.

"I hope you're right," muttered Ike. As the two began conversing some more, Stan's attention was diverted to another event. He could make out several voices, one of which belonged to Mr. Broflovski. There were several others, but they were mixed together so that Stan couldn't distinguish them.

"He's been acting really strange lately. Several days ago he locked himself in his closet..." Stan knew that to be Kyle's father.

"Has he exhibited any other strange behavior?" Stan frowned. That was Ms. Sagisak.

"He hasn't slept in ages. And he's become rather... jumpy." Mr. Broflovski, again.

"Is there anything you believe he hasn't told you?"

"What? No... my son tells us everything!"

"Well... your son was sent to my office at one point. Thought technically I am not to repeat what my clients tell me, he did say that he was planning on telling you sooner. Since this is an important situation, I am taking the liberty of quickening this notion. Your son is gay, Mr. Broflovski." Stan felt a lump grow in his throat. They knew.

"What, what what!" yelled a female voice. Definitely Mrs. Broflovski. "Our son? That's- that's-!"

"Sheila, don't be too hard on Kyle," said Ms. Sagisak, but Stan had tuned out of that conversation. His parents knew. And by the looks of it they weren't too happy. Things weren't looking too good for Kyle. With all the things going on in Kyle's life... Stan knew Kyle didn't deserve it. _But his best friend not even wanting to look at him wasn't helping him either_. With this in mind Stan decided to finally face his friend.

Stan vommitted.

- - - - - - - - - -

The ride home was rather difficult for the boys. The Broflovski's were as quiet as ever, and Stan wondered if they had told Ike about what they had found out. Stan looked at Kenny, who was clueless of what had happened. Kenny only continued to look out the window, and Stan supposed that he was deep in thought.

Stan stared out his own window and watched snowflakes drift slowly to the ground. They floated gently, swaying one way, and then another, and then again until they landed softly upon an old layer of snow, like apple seeds using their makeshift wings to flutter in the wind. Stan looked at the old layer of snow, which had become dirty from all the cars driving by. Soon the dirty old layers would be replaced by new layers. Almost like cleansing.

A sharp weight on his shoulder broke him from his thought. Ike had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Stan smiled, and then he shifted his weight so that Ike could better rest on Stan. Stan began to wonder how his views would changed once he learned the shocking news about Kyle that his parents had already discovered. Would all his admirations towards his older brother vanish? Stan certainly didn't hope so.

He glanced out the window again to watch the snow fall. Maybe the snow resembled a new beginning, however much of a analogy it represented. The dirty snow resembled the wretched lives that they were all living through. Perhaps the new snow would bring a fresh and clean start... a new layer of life to live on.

Stan soon found himself at his house. He gently relocated Ike's head on Kenny's shoulder, who had fallen asleep and didn't notice. He gave thanks to the Broflovskis before shutting the car door and walking to his front door. He scavenged his pockets and produced the house key. He quietly opened the front door, stepped inside, and shut the door after him.

He took off his damp jacket and hung it on a nearby coat hanger. He tapped his feet softly on the welcome mat, shaking off any snow that had clung to them, and packed them neatly to the side of the door. His mother liked order in the house, and Stan made sure he respected that.

He made his way up to his room, gaining a welcome greeting from his mother in the kitchen. He could hear Shelley from the hallway, but he didn't bother trying to disturb her; he knew there would be a consequence to pay if he did. As he entered his quarters he shut the door and undressed himself from his attire. Once he had put more comfortable clothing he turned on his computer and flopped onto his bed. Why had he vommitted when he looked at Kyle? Was it because it sickened him to see Kyle helpless and unconscious on the bed?

Or was it for the same reason he used to vommit on Wendy?

_No. It definitely was not._ With Wendy, he threw up whenever she talked to him; Kyle hadn't talked to him. This relieved Stan. Now all he wanted was for tomorrow to come. He wanted to talk to Kyle. He wanted to help Kyle get things back to normal. He wanted Kyle to feel safe, as opposed to watching his guard in fear of another attack on him. He just wanted Kyle to wake up.

He didn't bother trying to wake up and use his computer as he had intended.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan's will for the next day to come hadn't prevented him from sleeping in. As much as he wanted to get up and somehow find a way to visit Kyle, his body ached for more sleep. He had even slept through his alarm clock, which he had forgotten to turn off the night before. With the glaring 11:45 in red, as well as the bright sun rays in his face, the raven-haired boy forced himself out of bed.

He found his whole family sitting at the table, minding their own business while eating their breakfast. Mr. Marsh had a beer in his hand, the newspaper in the other, and his legs partially against the table to support the newspaper's back. Shelley was listening to a CD player, and because she had it on full-blast Stan could tell that it was a Jessica Simpson CD. Mrs. Marsh had open an issue of Reader's Digest, furiously scribbling answers to a crossword puzzle.

He prepared himself a bowl of cereal and sat himself at the table. His three family members acknoledged him by giving a morning greetings, but it had remained at that. Stan stared at his cereal throughout his meal; he wasn't blessed in having something else at the table like the rest of his family.

His father had been the first to say something, and that had been when Stan had gotten up to wash his bowl. "Stan, I'm taking the boys to the hospital today. Mr. Broflovski said that he and his wife couldn't make it to the hospital and asked me to bring Kyle home for them. Would you like to come with me?" Naturally, the boy nodded.

"It must be very hard for them," said Stan's mother, nodding in agreement. "I'm sure they must be sad not being able to see Kyle."

"But isn't that kind of sad?" asked Stan. "Why can't they go to the hospital to pick up their own son?" This had been a rather rhetorical question. Stan feared the answer in his gut.

"I don't know son," said his father. "I'm sure they have good reasons. But we need to get going." He and Stan had gotten out of their seats to put on their jackets. Mrs. Marsh rose up to kiss her husband goodbye; Shelley remained seated.

"Kenny should already be at the Broflovski's," said Mr. Marsh. "This should make our job much easier."

"Right dad," Stan muttered. He glanced outside and noticed the snow.

It was fresh.

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End chapter. It's the longest chapter so far, but not by much. Maybe I'll progressively grow longer. That sounds like a plan! 

Self edited, like last time. Please review.


	11. Closure of sorts

**Chapter 11. **Again, I didn't think I would make it this far.

**Another gift!** I wanted to post something before the school week started... since SCHOOL HELL!  
I need a review from **one new reader** to continue. And as always, every TWO reviews calls for an early update day. :)

We are approaching some angst stuff in the near future. Either this chapter or the next.

As you might have noticed, I decided to make Ike an important character in the story. He replaced Cartman, yet he doesn't. His role may be more clear later on.

**myspace. Again, the link is on my homepage. My URL is jbd420ct.**

When Stan does his research he gets on a site with nine arguments. If you are truly interested in what the author, **Dr. Niclas Berggren**, has to say, just do what Stan does. The website actually exists.

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The three boys were happy to find Kyle awake when they arrived. As they soon found out, Kyle was not to leave his bed just yet, and though Kyle argued about the whole ordeal he agreed to remain in bed until further instruction. Ike was first to rush to his brother's side, burying his face into Kyle's chest, staining him with his tears. Kyle glanced at his two other friends over Ike's shoulder and patted his brother several times on the back. 

When Ike had parted from his brother Kenny had stepped forward to hug his friend. In his mind Stan was thinking on how this closely resembled Frodo's parting in _The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King_, only that this was more of a coming back than a departure. Frodo had said goodbye to Merry and Pippin first. Good friends, of course. But then he had saved his best friend for last, Samwise Gamgee.

All the _Lord of the Rings_ comparisons were confusing Stan, so he had stopped thinking about it. By now Kenny had also parted with Stan, and he backed up to make room for Stan to approach Kyle. Stan cleared his throat, stepped forward, and found himself shaking. He glanced nervously at Kyle, and though he really wanted to embrace him and tell him that everything was going to be all right, he merely stuck his right hand out to shake his hand. Kyle frowned, but took his hand anyways.

"What did I miss?" Kyle asked weakly, even trying to chuckle a little. Ike got up on the bed beside his brother and cuddled him. Stan smiled at the two. Ike truly admired his brother a lot. But then... had his parents told Ike yet?

"You haven't missed anything," said Kenny. "At least, nothing that we've missed. And since we were with you all of yesterday I'm sure we didn't do much. The hospital isn't a very fun place..." Ike nodded in agreement.

"We were all so worried about you!" Ike exclaimed. "Mom was out of her mind when the doctor told her that you were going to be out of it until this morning. Imagine what she would be like if you were in a coma!"

"Let's not," muttered Stan under his breath, but he hadn't been discrete enough. Kyle's gaze immediately found itself looking at Stan, and Stan found Kenny and Ike following suit. Stan laughed nervously and took a new interest in the tile patterns of the floor. "Erm, what I mean was... I'm happy with having Kyle awake. Let's not think about the coma."

"Good idea," said Kenny, turning back to Kyle. Stan only continued to stare at the floor, and it was almost as if he could feel Kyle looking at him still. His father had been the one to save the day, popping into the room to check on Kyle.

"Just making sure to see you all are okay," said Mr. Marsh, patting his son's back fairly hard. "Doctor says I can't bring you home because I'm not your legal guardian. So I'll go home and tell your parents to pick all of you up." He waved a goodbye and walked out the door.

"Why aren't my parents here?" asked Kyle. Only Kenny and Ike could truthfully shrug their shoulders. Stan imitated their movements, but it felt awkward. It wasn't like he knew for sure that it was the reason; he had only assumed it. Still, knowing a vague idea differed him from the others.

"They said they couldn't come," said Ike, frowning. "They couldn't give me a straight answer though. They went shopping a lot though." The sound of this relieved Stan. _They were probably preparing for a welcome back party for Kyle_.

Yeah, that was it.

"I'm parched," said Kenny suddenly. "Anyone want to find a vending machine with me?" Ike sprung off the bed and joined his side, claiming that he had been dying for a drink. The two of them walked away, leaving Stan to watch over Kyle.

"Do you remember what Mr. Absenence said?" Stan muttered as he took a seat on the plastic chair beside Kyle's bed. "He said that medical emergencies would be excusable." He chuckled lightly.

"That's right," said Kyle, shifting his weight so that he was in a sitting-up position. "We can get an extension on that project, right?" Stan nodded, and then the room fell to silence again. These awkward silences...

"Are you still up for that interview?" Stan asked him softly. He turned to his best friend and saw doubt in his eyes.

"Honestly, no," said Kyle, "but you need the grade..."

"Don't force yourself," said Stan. Kyle nodded.

"I'll do it later then." The two nodded in their agreement. Then, as soon as another silence had set in, the two other boys came rushing back into the room, smiles plastered on their faces.

"You guys should've been there!"

"It was so great!"

"We went to go get a soda from the vending machine downstairs-"

"-and we couldn't get the dollar bill in-"

"-and so some lady gave us another dollar to put in the slot-"

"-but we didn't want t to take it because it was hers-"

"-so we let her keep the bottle when it came out-"

"-but then when she opened it it exploded all over her face!" Stan and Kyle both raised an eyebrow at the two. Stan wasn't even sure who said what because it all sounded like one long sentence. Kyle raised his eyebrows, partially amused.

"We ran away as fast as we could," said Kenny. "She looked really pissed. But we left our dollar on the floor in case she wanted... reimbursement." Ike giggled at their deed, and Stan could only imagine what the scene looked like... and old woman with a cane, hair drench with soda... It was definitely a good comic relief.

- - - - - - - - - -

It was around four in the afternoon when Mr. Broflovski had returned. His wife hadn't gone with him so that the four could properly fit into the car. The children had to wait for several minutes while Mr. Broflovski did some paperwork that Stan didn't understand. Once that had finished Mr. Broflovski got the kids into the car, where they made their way home. The ride wasn't too pleasant, especially with the tension Stan could feel in the air. Occasionally Ike would burst into laughter thinking about their soda mischief, and soon after Kenny would join in with him.

They first dropped Kenny off at his... house. Kenny didn't really have that great of an economic status, so to say. Cartman made fun of him constantly for being poor, but excluding him his friends didn't care that much. Because of the lack of food available to eat Kenny was rather skinny, and when he visited Kyle or Stan's house he would seemingly 'binge' eat. Of course, it was nothng of that matter, and Stan knew that. He was just really hungry sitting at a table with more than a waffle to share.

Kenny had said his goodbyes before walking into his abode. Mr. Broflovski hung around for several minutes, making sure that Kenny got into his house okay. When Kenny had stepped inside and shut the door Kyle's dad sped off, making his way to Stan's house. Ike had stopped making random outbursts, which hadn't been a good thing since Stan had been relying on it to break the silences. He began humming a song under his breath, just to amuse himself for the ride.

_Caresses sur l'oc_éan... The song was from a french movie that his teacher had shown in class one day, _Les Choristes_. It was a movie about a man going to a school of troubled boys, so to say, and turns them into a singing choir in an attempt to calm them down. Though Stan didn't understand the majority of the movie he still enjoyed the music. He especially liked the voice of the character Pierre Morhange, and Stan was shocked to learn that it had actually been him singing, and not just an actor lipsyncing to a song.

_ Porte l'oiseau si léger_... Stan saw Kyle's head perk up at the sound of french. Of course, Kyle had also been there to watch the movie, though he was supposed to be working on learning the subjunctive instead of watching. Kyle didn't even bother doing his assignment that day, and watched the movie with the rest of the class. He liked it just as much as Stan, though he probably understood more of the movie than Stan had.

_ Revenant de terres enneigées..._ Stan was surprised to hear Kyle join in with his humming, which was a good thing since Stan didn't know the rest of the song. Stan made a note to himself that Kyle had a pretty good singing voice. He thought that it made his own voice sound like Vietnamese people having their intestines pulled out through their mouths, as his dad had put it once.

Kyle had continued singing, and Stan let him finish the song by himself. Of course, Kyle's voice didn't compare to the original actor's voice, but it was still good enough to soothe him.

_ Air éphémère de l'hiver... au loin ton écho s'éloigne... châteaux en Espagne... vire au vent tournoie déploie tes ailes... dans l'aube grise du levant... trouve un chemin vers l'arc-en-ciel... se découvrira le printemps..._

As soon as Kyle had finished Stan felt the car come to a halt. It was definitely a coincidence that he finished in time. Mr. Marsh was waiting outside to greet them, and this made Stan wonder how long exactly had his father waited for them.

"Mr. Broflovski," began Stan politely, "would it bother you if Kyle stayed here for a while? I mean just for a few hours... we need to put together a project..." Kyle looked at him curiously, but Stan didn't make any obvious gestures. Kyle's father agreed, and after Kyle had gotten out of the car he drove off with Ike. Mr. Marsh led the two boys inside the house, and after that the two made their way to Stan's room.

"I printed some stuff while you were at the hospital," explained Stan. "I just wanted to get your opinion on it. I think we have a poster board somewhere in the house, so we can put stuff on it too." Stan led Kyle to his room and showed him the papers. Kyle nodded in approval. Then the two went around the house in search for a poster board. Shelley had ended up having one, and she gave it up to the boys in the condition that they would leave her alone. Stan graciously took it and left before his teeth were knocked out of his mouth. Kyle was smart to follow suit.

As they began arranging papers on the board to figure out where things would go, Stan brought up the interview once again. Kyle stopped what he was doing and thought about it for several moments. "I know you need to do this before Monday," he had said, "but right now I don't want to talk about it... especially since what had happened yesterday." Stan nodded in agreement and focused once more on the project.

Denied again.

- - - - - - - - - -

Two house later brought them to six in the evening. Kyle had fallen asleep out of exhaustion. Stan understood why the boy was tired, and had relocated him to his bed, as opposed to his previous position on their poster board. With nothing else to do, Stan had decided to research for his debate, which was to occur on Monday. He thanked Ms. Kitorese for making it an informal debate, as not only did he not know how to properly cite his sources, but he also didn't know how to present it as such.

He typed in 'arguments on homosexuality' in the Google search box, and plenty of sites popped up. Stan settled for the first entry, which had a whole perplexed essay about nine different arguments against homosexuals. Thankfully enough the essay was outlined, and so he was able to see what each argument was and could find each argument easily.

He began to write a speech to guide him through his debate, implementing what he read with every keystroke he made. He found the author's arguments to be quite valid, and agreed with almost everything he said. Stan didn't know that the topic could be argued that in-depth, and the article clearly changed his mind. It opened new windows for Stan, and gave him a whole new outlook on the topic.

Stan had just finished reading the author's ninth argument when he felt something looking over his shoulder. He glanced at his right shoulder, and true enough found Kyle looking over him, reading the site along with him. Stan immediately reacted in surprise, but Kyle only smiled.

"H-how long have you been there?" Stan asked in disbelief.

"Only for five minutes," Kyle replied. "I was wondering what you were doing, so I took a look. That site you were just at has some really interesting points..." Stan smiled at his friend.

"You don't really need to read those arguments to truly accept it," said Stan. "I accepted you for who you were before reading this. I think that that should be more of a... guide... than a dictation..." Kyle nodded, rising up to his full height to pace around the room.

"Stan... I think... I want to do that interview..." Kyle grinned sheepishly at Stan as he said this.

"Are you sure?" asked Stan. In truth, Stan hadn't really come up with any questions to ask Kyle. After he had been refused twice Stan figured that he would use the time to think of some things to ask Kyle, but Stan hadn't had the chance to yet. Deciding that he would have to just make up some questions, Stan answered, "If you want to..." Kyle sat down on the edge of Stan's bed, and Stan reopened Microsoft Word so that he could type Kyle's responses. "Uh... do you think that homosexuality destroys society?"

"No," responded Kyle, and immediately as he said this Stan's fingers were put to work. "Uh... I think that homosexuality a normal characteristic trait that is determined before birth, and that homosexual behavior is natural for those who hold that orientation. It's existed in every culture before ours, sometimes accepted in those cultures. If it truly destroyed society, would we really be here...?"

"Do you think that homosexuality is accepted in this culture, then?"

"Obviously not, Stan," Kyle replied, "or else I wouldn't have been beaten up..." Kyle trailed off, and Stan, sensing that it hadn't been a very good topic to ask, changed the subject.

"Uh, do you think that homosexuals have a hard time... fitting in with society?"

"Another obvious one, Stan," said Kyle. "Of course it's hard... what are you supposed to say when someone asks you if some model is hot? When kids look at porn behind the school and they offer you to look, what're you to do? When you like guys that don't like you back, how're you to react?" Stan knew that Kyle had said that last line intentionally to him. He thought that Kyle had gotten over that... maybe the fight had reawakened things inside of him... and yet Stan couldn't blame him... Kyle probably just wanted someone to comfort him and tell him that things would be better.

"Uh, how about-"

"Let me ask you a question," said Kyle. "Do you think that heterosexuals are fair to homosexuals that like them? Do they properly treat the matter without having to be encouraged to do so?" Stan refused to turn his chair to face Kyle. He knew Kyle was right; Kyle had to be the one to apologize for what he did... even though Stan wanted to talk to Kyle about the whole matter, he knew that he was incapable of doing it... Kyle definitely had a point.

"Kyle, I... I really wanted to talk to you about it... I really did. It's just that at that time I didn't know if you were ready to talk about the matter yet..."

"But that day at lunch," started Kyle, and Stan instantly knew where he was getting at; "you were leading me on to thinking that you did care... in that way... and then you let me sink rock bottom... saying that you cared about me in a different way, and then ending it by saying as best friends... as brothers perhaps; I don't remember. But if you were really my best friend, why did you lead me like that...?"

"I'm sorry Kyle," Stan said, and when Stan turned around to look at him Kyle could see how soaked Stan's shirt was from wiping tears. "I'm sorry, alright? I-I didn't know how to react... it's not like I-I knew what to do or anything... I-I went to see Ms. Sagisak as to what to do, but she told me exactly the same thing as I-I told myself, and she said that I-I had to get through it myself, to build up strength i-independently to talk to you... to give the both of us closure..."

Now it was Kyle's turn to cry. "I shouldn't have brought it up... I said I would get over it. I said that I could settle as friends... but apparently that wasn't so..." He raised his left arm and stained his orange sleeve with tears. "There was just something inside of me that wanted to believe that you would change your mind... does this count as closure?" Stan nodded, stifling in more tears.

"Almost... but it's good for now..." Kyle smiled and almost dived into Stan, hugging him while burying his face into his chest. Stan wrapped his own arms around Kyle, and rested his chin on Kyle's head. He felt comforted by Kyle's warmth, and somehow it made him feel better.

Misconception may have been a malicious thing, but in the end the truth always shines through the darkness of the clouds. A piercing light will shine through the pitch-black sky, shining ever so blindingly onto the deceitful world, and purify the hearts of those loyal and true. The coming of eternal darkness would always be hindered by truth, loyalty, and above all... friendship.

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Not the ending. I just felt like having a sappy chapter end. I don't know how to treat this chapter. I think I did okay. **It's long though!** :-D 


	12. Only sometimes can good news be bad

**Chapter 12. **Yippee!

_You guys are so AWESOME!_ I was going to post this Wednesday, like tomorrow, because of a 3.5 day advance (7 reviews). But since you guys are so cool, I'll post a day early.

_**EMBRACE YOURSELF (sorta)**_

I'm not sure if I can make this any longer than my previous chapter. Sorry folks :-(

Uh... in this chapter we will see Stan returning to Stark's Pond... should be some fun things to read here.

My myspace is **jbd420ct**. Add me.  
AIM: **The French Flip**

All my disclaimers have been mentioned in other chapters. And of course, I don't own South Park.

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Their happy moment had to fade away eventually. Kyle had straightened himself back into his sitting position, and the two continued their interview. Stan thought the information from the interview to be sufficient, and he began placing texts of information into his paper. Kyle returned to his previous lying position and waited for Stan to finish. 

It was around eight thirty when Stan called quits from his computer. He tapped Kyle on his shoulder lightly, and once he had gotten his friend rolling out of bed they made their way downstairs. They found Mr. Marsh watching an Eagles game on television. Stan didn't want to bother his father while he watched the game, but it had been Kyle's only ride home. At first his father refused to bring him home, grumbling about how the game was a once-in-a-lifetime game. It was Mrs. Marsh's intervening that had Mr. Marsh on his feet and ready to go in the end; Stan laughed on how much influential power spouses actually had.

It came as no surprise as to what radio station was playing on the car ride. At one point Stan threatened to turn it off; his father had cheered so drastically from a touchdown that the car had veered sharply to the left, and it was thanks to Stan's reflexes that they weren't crushed by an incoming semi. Throughout the ride Kyle remained quiet, and Stan had wondered whether it had been because he was listening to the game; then again, Kyle didn't like the Eagles very much, nor did he like the 49'ers.

The ride to Kyle's house hadn't been very long. Stan and Kyle said their thanks before walking to the door. Smiles were plastered on their faces, and Kyle was almost skipping to the door. Stan sped up to a jog, which was how a simple walk to a front door led to a foot race. When the two boys reached the door they both leaned against the brick wall and laughed pleasantly. Kyle raised his arm to ring the doorbell, and the two of them waited for the door to be answered.

With the rustling of the doorknob Ike opened the door. He smiled first at his brother, and then at Stan. He stepped behind the door to let his brother in, Kyle taking the invitation and wiping his boots on the welcome mat. Ike had offered Stan to step inside as well, but he kindly refused the offer. His father would be waiting for him to return to the car and make their way back home as soon as possible. Stan turned towards the car as he heard the door shut behind him.

After the car ride home, Stan found his way back upstairs to his room. Stan felt content; he had come to an understanding with Kyle. He smiled as he flopped onto his bed, staring at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. He could work this out with Kyle; he just knew he could.

It wasn't long after he had settled himself comfortably on his bed when he heard the phone ring. Stan gave out a long frustrated groan and shoved a pillow over his face and ears. Stan hadn't realized how much sleep he had been lacking... even after sleeping in that morning. The phone rang several more times, and when Stan thought he was about to go insane his mother had picked it up. Thank goodness.

His peace was only momentary. No sooner had he tried sleeping again his mother's voice echoed through the hallway outside his room. He refused to give in to his mother's summons, and it was only when she rapped against his bedroom door loudly that he decided to give in. As he rubbed his eyes his mother had informed him that it was Kyle on the phone. Stan glanced at the clock, which read 10:30. Kyle was calling at ten thirty?

"Can he call back later?" Stan had proposed when he opened the door. "Like maybe tomorrow? I'm really tired..." His mother told Kyle of his proposal. She had then replied saying that it was an urgent matter, according to Kyle. Stan growled, and took the phone from his mother.

"Do you hate me Stan?" was the first thing he heard. Stan was taken aback; hadn't they just discussed that? Stan tried assuring him that he didn't hate him, and neither did Kenny. And as Kyle kept denying his statements Stan knew that something had happened, and he hoped to find out what.

"My parents found out, Stan," Kyle stuttered. So his parents had told him they knew. Stan remembered their initial reactions back at the hospital, especially Mrs. Broflovski's. By the tone of her voice she was ready to rip Kyle's head off... or maybe blame Canada again. Stan had zoned out before perceiving Mr. Broflovski's reaction, but Stan was ready to bet his life that by the way Kyle was reacting now his father didn't really approve of it either. "They said that I should be ashamed of myself... and that everyone would hate me when they found out..."

"Kyle, stop it," said Stan. "The whole world isn't mad at you. In fact, I don't think that many people are. I'm sure Cartman is, but that's probably just because it's you. Craig might be the only other one that truly hates you."

"How about the people who beat me up?"

"What about them? I wasn't there... I don't know who beat you up except maybe Cartman, or why, or anything of that sort." Saying this made Stan think afterwards. Had the guidance counselor known the reason for Kyle's attack? Why had she taken initiative in telling his parents? Maybe the fight had something to do with him being gay? But hadn't that been what Kenny had told him?

"Cartman, Craig, and Token," muttered Kyle. "I don't see why they have to hate me so much."

"Kyle, stop," said Stan, and he took a seat on his bed. "They were probably convinced by Cartman that being gay was a horrible thing to be. Remember his view on ginger kids? The whole world doesn't hate you. Kenny doesn't hate you. Ike probably doesn't hate you. I don't hate you."

"But Ike doesn't even know!" snapped Kyle, answering Stan's previous questions. "And my parents hate me for it, Stan. My parents! If they are to hate me what foundation can I build on? If I'm not supported at home how am I going to build my life and feel accepted? So what you and Kenny don't hate me. But it's not like you can't support me in any way more than a complete stranger could."

"You've changed the subject," said Stan switching the phone to his left ear. "Your argument was that the world hates you. Now you're just talking about your parents..." Stan heard him sigh from the other end of the phone.

"There's just no one to help me, Stan," said Kyle. "I declare my sexuality, and suddenly my whole view on the world changes. Something I thought to be minor turns up to be a deciding factor on who is my friend and who isn't. It seems... unfair. Wrong."

"Kyle... just remember, you always have me, okay?" Stan heard no response, save a few stifling of tears. Stan supposed that he had nodded, because he was able to mutter an okay after some time. "I need to go to sleep though... we'll talk about it another time, okay?"

"Okay Stan... thanks." Stan wanted to say something else, but he couldn't seem to think of what else he might include to make Kyle feel better. He muttered a goodbye before hanging up the phone, and he threw his phone onto his desk before collapsing on his bed.

- - - - - - - - - -

The next day began as a normal day for Stan. His family had gone to church, as they did every Sunday. He listened to the priest's sermon, which was not that interesting. Stan had always wished since he was a child that he would have a more interesting priest; this didn't end up happening. Towards the end, like every other mass service, he went up to receive communion. Upon returning to his seat he kneeled in the pews and prayed. This was all normal routine for the typical Catholic.

That day he had decided to ask God about homosexuality. Of course, Stan still remembered the letter he had sent to him not a week ago; he took this as an opportunity to remind him of his plaguing questions. Like before, Stan didn't expect God to answer him right away. A Goth kid had once asked him if God truly existed, and though Stan answered confidently that he did, sometimes Stan had to wonder. But if Jesus lived in their neighborhood then he must exist, right?

It was honestly a matter of faith. Scientific research may constantly disprove the Catholic theory of Adam and Eve as the first male and female to exist, and if one didn't have any faith in their religion then what was to become of that person? He would be swayed by culture and news, as a plant ripped from its roots. Faith was the glue that stuck a person to his religion. Without faith religion would not thrive.

The moments after mass were different from the typically described Sunday. Cartman had gone off with Stan and Kenny as they usually did, and Stan had to question what were the true motives behind his ANTIGSA club. Was he only around Kenny and himself because Kyle was not present with them?

Stan decided not to converse with him, and by the looks of it Kenny had done the same. Stan had remembered the last time that they had ignored Cartman; he had gone into a fit thinking that he was dead, and since he had not gone to heaven he must've done something wrong. The whole ordeal ended with him 'proving' himself worthy of friendship, and a very unhappy Butters.

Cartman began talking about his notorious club, and Stan was sure that he was doing it on purpose. From what Stan picked up, there was going to be an after school meeting on Monday, where they would discuss how homosexuals were destroying moral values and the family unit. He had even asked Stan and Kenny to come, and Stan had vehemently declined the offer. Kenny replied a mere no, being a tad nicer to the Hitler reincarnate.

Once Cartman had declared the two too lame to hang out with ("Screw you guys; I'm going home...") Stan and Kenny began to talk. Kenny invited Stan to go skating with him later that day, and Stan had accepted. Kenny informed him that he had invited Kyle as well, and that he hadn't been sure at the time. So Kyle's presence there was unknown.

Soon they parted ways, and Stan returned home with the rest of his family. He was lying on his bed, and was thinking of the skating event scheduled for later that day. Where it had all started... it had been how the ordeal began. A part of him wished that Kyle never told him... maybe they would've avoided all these awkward situations that they were having... but then, it was their disputes and their fights that brought them closer as friends.

Stan was still angry with Cartman and his club. Stan had the biggest gut instinct that Cartman was doing it all to piss Kyle off. Stan knew that his plan wasn't working, or at least as he had wanted it to; his plan was making Kyle depressed, and to Stan that had been an even bigger accomplishment. All it took was for him to make a anti-Jewish club, which he was positive that the school administration would never pass, and Kyle would probably kill himself.

Suicide... it was definitely something that Stan had never thought of. Was his friend thinking of those thoughts? He definitely hoped not, and as he reflected upon the situation he was assured that suicide was not on Kyle's mind. Extremely worried, yes. Extremely confused, perhaps. But not suicidal.

Stan wasn't sure how much time was passing while he laid in bed thinking of his life and of those around him. His mother hadn't called him down for lunch yet, and though it seemed like he was in bed forever time had obviously not gone fast enough to waste away the day. Stan didn't want to lie in bed forever, but he didn't want to do anything either. He tried to find a state between the two but he failed.

Seconds passed into minutes, and minutes into hours. Stan remembered hearing many voices around him, but he chose not to listen to them. He heard his dad's voice come and go, and the same with his mother's. Stan's stomach growled from the lack of food, which he chose to ignore.

After what seemed like eternity he finally decided to leave his resting position, and began to dress himself. It was probably going to be cold while they were there, so Stan took a scarf and wrapped it snugly around his mouth and neck. He took his driest sweater he could find, and after pulling snowpants up to his waist he fitted himself with a toque.

He found his skates in the laundry room beside the washing machine. Stan quickly packed them into a duffel-like bag, grabbed some food from the pantry, and hastened out the door. Thankfully enough Stark's Pond wasn't too far, or else he would have to convince his father into missing another football team; Mr. Marsh wasn't too keen on missing out on a Broncos game.

He immediately saw Kenny when he reached the pond. He was already equipped in his skates, and he was also wearing his ridiculous parka. Stan said his greeting before sitting on the white layer of snow to put on his skates. Stan did his best to hasten in his actions, and Kenny was fairly patient with him. Once Stan was properly equipped the two set onto the ice; there was only one other person present, and neither Kenny nor Stan knew him.

"Mmph mmmph," said Kenny. Stan noticed that Kenny had a slight tendency to speed up for several seconds, and then stop pushing forward and let his remaining speed carry him around for some time. Stan was more into skating constantly, each push with his feet light and soft enough to keep him going without making him fatigued.

"Things have been fine," muttered Stan. "Yesterday Kyle called me though. He seemed really worried..." Stan heard Kenny sigh.

"Stan there's something I need to tell you," said Kenny. Stan nodded understandingly, urging Kenny to continue. "Well, because of Kyle's little... incident, I've kinda gotten close to Ike over the past few days. I figured that Ike needed the emotional support, especially since he was questioning himself. We grew as really close friends, despite the fact that he's six years younger than me or so. Of course, you guys are still my best buddies.

"But anyways, last night he called me at my house. I'm not sure how he knew that I had a phone in my house; maybe Kyle had told him my number. But anyways, Ike was telling me how depressed Kyle was from the conversation with his parents that Ike had overheard. I'm sure it was making him feel bad too. He was saying how he wished his brother were happier and stuff, and how his parents shouldn't care what sexuality Kyle is as long as he's happy. Then he kept asking me if I knew how to make him happy.

"I don't know what I was thinking, Stan... but when he asked me the question, I... told Kyle to get on the phone. I don't know, Stan... I was feeling sorry for him maybe, but... when he got on the phone, I..."

"Go on," said Stan encouragingly.

"I... asked him on a date." There were many ways to explain the situation after that. Perhaps it could be described as a lone figure watching waves crash onto the sandy shores, wondering why waves came in tides, how the sand dealt with each wave of salty water. Maybe it could be better described as watching water flush down the sink after the drain is unplugged, watching why the water forms an underwater tornado as it goes down. Maybe watching a rainbow after a rainstorm was the better analogy; wondering what exactly caused so many beautiful shades of color to appear in the sky. Even a magnetic force analogy was sufficient; experimenting and questioning why two similar ends repelled each other.

Any one of these analogies seemed to correctly express the feelings Stan felt. He was listening to Kenny talking about his date with Kyle, where he had learned that Kyle accepted, and felt a knot in his stomach. He wasn't entirely sure why he felt it, and he would stop to figure out why if he hadn't still been skating around the pond with one of his best friends. Kenny's motives for inviting Stan to skate with him were now clear, yet he still didn't see why Kenny had to tell him, nor why he was feeling awkward about it. Him trying to explain the knot in his stomach was much like trying to figure out why same poles compel each other, why rainbows appear, why water cyclones appear in sinks, or why waves and tides existed.

"I hope this doesn't bother you," said Kenny, taking Stan aback.

"Why should it bother me?" asked Stan. He knew Kenny's answer though; he had been saying it every time Kenny brought the idea up.

"Well..." began Kenny, "you were acting all worried about Kyle at first, kind of like over-obsessing. As if you cared for him."

"Kenny, how many times do I have to tell you? Just because I care for a friend doesn't mean I like him!"

"Whatever Stan," Kenny said, and Stan believed that it was almost becoming cliche. But yet as they continued to skate for the rest of the evening Stan couldn't help remembering what Ms. Sagisak had mentioned to him regarding Kenny. And though Stan was happy for Kyle for finding someone to seek comfort in he still felt a stabbing pain in his heart.

Was it jealousy? Maybe he was in love.

But Stan would never know.

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Zomgz, uhm. Yeah. I don't even think my proofreader knew about this chapter ending ahead of time. There's a lot more ahead for the boys... so I'm sure you'd love to review!  



	13. The Eye of the Hurricane

**ZOMGZ here's ur chapter. You guys earned it! It isn't very long though. **I think FanFiction says 2992 words.

Liek, zomgz. The thirteenth chapter. Unlucky? It might be.

Uhm. Venus-gurl definitely deserves a lot of credit for brainstorming with me, haha. Unconventionally, yet effective.

And of course, to my readers. Especially the ones that **review.**

Ike's major part in the story is now _over._ Not saying that he's no longer involved, but his major part is over (indirectly getting Kenny and Kyle together, by accident).**  
**

**EB White's** piece is really, and it's called "Once more to the lake." The extremely long yet not runoff sentence is perfect, and the sentences during their English class are supposed to be near-modeled from the original sentence. Rather, the kids' assignment is to make a similar sentence to white's.

Uh, later on that english class people began snickering, and the girl is disgusted. I'll mention why later, but if you want read the piece and find out why for yourself (it's close to the ending)

Uhm, self-edited because the deadline for this chapter is today, and I didn't have time to send it :-(

**_LONG WEEKEND!_** Hooray for Jewish holidays! (I'm not Jewish, though)

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He hadn't fully understood the magnitude of Kenny's actions until the next day. Even as he was sleeping he hadn't thought about the matter too much. Sure, he felt a gut feeling for the rest of that evening, but his desire to sleep caused him to forget his worries for a good six hours. 

It had only been when Stan returned to school that he began to notice differences. Stan arrived at their usual hangout spot to find Kenny already there; however, this time he was also accompanied with Kyle. Aside from Ms. Sagisak's forewarning, Stan had no idea as to where Kenny had come from. Since when had Kenny taken an interest in Kyle? Ms. Sagisak had said that Kenny was using Stan's situation to express his own desires. Maybe it had just been pity... isn't that what Kenny had argued?

And then there was Kyle. Hadn't he liked Stan just a few days ago? Why had he suddenly changed his views to liking Kenny? Perhaps he simply wanted someone to turn to, someone to comfort him, someone he knew he could trust. Apparently then, Stan had done a poor job over the past week.

Stan said his morning greeting to his friends. He sat down to Kenny's left, with Kyle to his right. Kenny greeted him as he did any morning, and did not fail in starting the morning conversation. The spotlight was not on him, however, but on Stan and Kyle, who each refused to say much at all. It had been a one-man dialogue, almost a monologue if it hadn't been for several grunts of assumed yes's and no's. The group's departing may have been the first time where the majority of the group was glad to leave...

...unless of course, the majority was headed in the same direction.

It had been clear to Kyle that Kenny had told Stan about their new relationship. Kyle made an attempt to start a conversation before arriving at their English class, but Stan didn't utter a word. The two found their seats rather quickly, and chose not to converse with any of their classmates before the bell rang.

Mr. Absenence declared to the class that he extended the due date for their poet project from Monday to Tuesday because of Kyle's hospitalization. This, of course, caused the reversed effect that should have happened; instead of the class feeling sorry for Kyle they cheered and thanked him for being beat up. Someone had even gone as far as saying, "You should be beat up more often!"

"Silence!" yelled their teacher, and the class was hushed. Stan was reminded of yet another detention, and he nodded acceptingly. He wondered if he was ever going to make it up for the full length, but for now he was glad to have the excuses. "Just because the assignment has changed doesn't mean that we aren't going to do anything. Now... turn to page fifty-five in your books."

"Mr. Absenence, I don't have a book!" yelled Bebe, and she was responded with a simple shrug. Bebe sighed and moved to look over a neighbor's.

"Here we have a passage by E.B. White," said Mr. Absenence. "I want you to read silently by yourself his narrative, and try to keep note of the type of sentence structure he uses in several cases. I'm giving you... twenty minutes to do that. Afterwards we will discuss the piece, and then we'll do a writing exercise."

"Ah, I remember him!" said Butters. "He's the guy that wrote Charlotte's Web, ain't he?" His teacher nodded before notioning towards the book. With a 'yessir' Butters hushed, and the class grew silent. Stan was sure that he could hear Cartman snickering a few seats away from him, but he didn't have any proof that it was really him. Stan glanced at Kyle, who seemed to be enjoying the story. Stan sighed deeply, and then indulged into his own book.

_"Once More To The Lake_," Stan read; "_One summer, along about 1904, my father rented a camp on a lake in Maine and took us all there for the month of August..."_ The story hadn't seemed that bad, though extremely boring at points, detailed at others, and particularly long at a few places in the book. One particularly long sentence he had noticed had been, "_Summertime, oh summertime, pattern of life indelible, the fade-proof lake, the woods unshatterable, the pasture with the sweetfern and the juniper forever and ever, summer without end; this was the background, and the life along the shore was the design, the cottagers with their innocent and tranquil design, their tiny docks with the flagpole and the American flag floating against the white clouds in the blue sky, the little paths over the roots of the trees leading from camp to camp and the paths leading back to the outhouses and the can of lime for sprinkling, and at the souvenir counters at the store the miniature birch-bark canoes and the post cards that showed things looking a little better than they looked._" He thought about his assignment, and tried to figure out why the sentence was so long.

With five minutes left students in the class began snickering. Stan hadn't yet figured out what everyone found funny, although he noted that it had apparently been a rather amusing thing. Even Kyle had smiled, and Stan grew frustrated as to why he couldn't see what they were laughing at. Just as he was at the final paragraph a girl had yelled "Ew, GROSS!" out loud, and the teacher called time.

"Okay class, you should be done by now," said Mr. Absenence, and the class nodded in agreement while drowning out the minority that Stan was in. "As you might have noticed, there was a variety of sentence structures in the passage. Some were quick and snappy, and others were rather long and outstretched. Can anyone read a particular sentence?" Stan had volunteered to read, and slowly recited the sentence he had read earlier. As he read he noticed his teacher's head nodding encouragingly, and when he had finished Mr. Absenence mumbled sounds of agreement.

"Mr. Absenence, isn't that a run-off sentence though?" asked Bebe.

"No, not at all," said her teacher. "E.B. White actually structures this sentence properly, and though it is long it truly still is a sentence. But does anyone know _why_ he uses such a lengthy sentence structure here?" Kyle raised his hand, and when no one else had tried to answer he was called.

"Because the author wants to imply a lasting occurence," said Kyle. "He wants to give us the idea that the descriptions have lasted for a long time. He also mentions the word-" Kyle looked for the words in the passage "-_summer without end_, and so he uses this long sentence to further build upon this never-ending idea." He looked up to his teacher, who had a very proud smile on his face.

"Very good," he said, "and this is actually what we call analyzing syntax. Syntax is the study of sentence structure, and when we study syntax it's not merely just recognizing the structures, but also _why_ they're used." He looked around the class, and he was met with a class-full of nods. "With that being said, I want you to take out a sheet of paper, and using your own topic imitate the sentence." The class did as they were told, and Stan frowned. What to write about?

Stan spent the next fifteen minutes of class writing about winter. Sure, it was an unoriginal idea, but it was rather easy since the original sentence had been about summer. Once the fifteen minutes had diminished the teacher recalled their attention, and began asking for volunteers to read out loud. Some, like Craig's, were about football; some, like Bebe's, about dresses; some, like Butters's, about ladybugs. Most were applauded, though not Butters's, and things seemed to be fine.

That is, until Kyle wanted to volunteer.

"Don't let the Jew read his!" said Cartman. "It's just gonna be some BS about killin' Jesus-"

"Shut up Cartman!"

"-or about some pussy-spined event-"

"I said shut up Cartman!"

"-or about his gay-wad boyfriend!" Cartman finished, unfazed by Kyle's interjections. Mr. Absenence intervened, telling him to let Kyle read what he wrote. Kyle took a deep breath and began reading.

"_A wave of uncontrollable sensations, aroused by concealed emotions, rediscovered by unexpected happenings, settled with misleading agreements, sparked once more with terrifying banter, falsely assured that the severity of the matter was minor, feeling the drench of an emotional flood levies were to restrain, suffering never-ending pain; these were the occurences of my life as of yet, plauging every waking moment of my life, concentrating remaining focus on matters I wish not to ponder, dealing issues I wished I could not cry over, and I have at last found my cure._" When Kyle had finished he looked up to his teacher and classmates; the class seemed to be in a split decision. Stan began to wonder why Kyle had chosen to recite such a... revealing insight on his life, though he did notice how Kyle focused it around Stan, except for the last part which meant having Kenny.

He was among the first to clap, along with about half the class (making it still a rather small number). Stan wasn't sure why he liked it, especially since he had been bashed several times in the piece. He was angered by it, yet he was applauding for his friend. Was he jealous that he was a better writer? Or maybe he hated how he had found this 'cure', and it wasn't him.

God damn those stipulations.

"SEE!" yelled Cartman, "WHAT'D I TELL YA? KAHL WROTE SOME GODDAMNED EMO SENTENCE! NO SPINE, I TELL YA!"

"Cartman, that's enough," muttered the teacher. Kyle hung his head, now regretting his decision of volunteering. Stan supposed that it would have been better if Kenny had been in their class. Yet for the rest of the period Stan couldn't stop thinking of Kyle, as unwilling as he was, and about how his cure hadn't been him.

- - - - - - - - - -

Sad to say that however prepared Stan was for the debate, it had never happened.

Or at least not that day. Cartman gleefully walked in that period, arms filled with books bookmarked with references, and a folder filled with notes to argue. Stan realized how much more research Cartman had done in comparison to himself, and was pretty much embracing himself for the worst. Yet as the bell rang an unrecognizeable man strode into the room, writing his name on the board with a red marker.

"God damnit!" yelled Cartman, now realizing that it was a substitute. Stan sank into his seat in relief; he had more time to do his research. Of course, what he could accumulate was probably not enough to win against Cartman, but at least it would be enough to stand a chance. But then, as Stan began thinking about his plans to win the debate, he also began wondering why Cartman really was taking such a huge stand against homosexuality. Was he really homophobic? Or was he just getting into Kyle's head, like he always did?

Stan thought about this as he completed the worksheets that were to be completed that class. Parliament, senate, filibusters, floor leaders, commander-in-chiefs... it just all seemed extremely irrelevant at the moment. Stan knew there was something up with Cartman, and as he returned from turning in his worksheets he glared at the boy, and vowed to find the reason behind this.

Even as he navigated the hallways to make his way for French he tried to see the true purpose behind Cartman and his ANTIGSA club. What motive did Cartman truly have? Was there something he was missing completely? And now, when Stan thought about it, he hadn't always been homphobic. He was with Stan when they protested about gay people in boy scouts... they had all gone to the death camp of intolerance... in their childhood they had gone through many situations involving homosexual ideas and people; even Mr. Garrison had been one for some time before he had his sex change. Yet it was _now_ that he hated the homosexual culture?

Stan arrived in his class and was greeted immediately with Kyle. The two did not make eye contact, yet Stan saw that to good reason. He wasn't sure if he could look at Kyle, especially after English class that morning. He began wishing that he would've been the one to help Kyle properly; yet was Kyle's definition of 'cure' to actually date him? Or, again, was there something he was missing entirely? Stan seated himself and opened up the letter.

"_Est-ce que tu as besoin de parler avec moi encore?_" Of course, Stan had no idea what it said, and so he spent the first part of the class ignoring the teacher and translating the note. He had remembered his teacher mentioning _est-ce que_ as a way to ask a question. _Tu as besoin_... Tu as was a conjugated form of _avoir_, but after that he had no idea. He flipped open his dictionary and began translating. "Do... to need... erm, so that'd be... you need... to talk... with me... again? Or is that still..." Stan decided that _encore_ had implied still. "Do you need to talk with me still?"

Of course, the letter that Stan had given Kyle last week. Stan wasn't even sure how Kyle remembered about that; even he hadn't remembered. He glanced at Kyle, who had apparently been waiting for his answer. Stan nodded, though he had no idea in his head as to what he had intended to talk about... nor did he know now; Stan supposed that talking to Kyle would be a good idea nevertheless.

The next step would be _when_. Stan had waited for Kyle after class to accompany him to lunch. There had definitely been a difference in Stan's demeanor; before school had started Stan barely even wanted to talk to Kyle, whereas now Stan didn't mind. He had made this clear to Kyle, apologizing for his actions earlier that day.

"Dude, I know," said Kyle. "It's hard to function that early in the morning. I'm sorry for making you seem so much like an antagonist too." Stan accepted his apology; perhaps being with Kenny wouldn't change Kyle's relationship with Stan.

The lunchroom would be the ultimate test, as it was the next time that Kenny was with the two boys. Naturally, Kyle had taken the liberty to sit next to the boy in orange, and Kenny had scooted himself closer to Kyle. The blond looked over at Stan, who did his best to act indifferent towards this new change. Thankfully Cartman didn't sit with them anymore, for Stan didn't feel like having to share the bench with Cartman.

Similiarly to last time though, conversation was hard to spark. Kenny had been the one to start the conversations, and the majority of time it had ended with another silence. Stan remained quiet, eating his lunch. The other half of the table was quiet verbally, though Kyle would occasionally giggle and look at the blonde seated beside him with a smile plastered on his face. Kenny made Kyle happy... was Stan capable of doing that?

"That's my foot," Stan muttered, and that had broken the silence. Both Kenny and Kyle had broken into laugher, and Stan found himself joining in.

"Maybe I meant to do that," Kenny smirked, before being playfully hit by Kyle. Stan reached under the table to find a pair of feet.

"Hey, hey!" said Kyle, and soon enough the table engaged in a full-fledged footsies war. Stan found it amusing, but inside he was also glad that things were turning out fine. And even though now he wished he had been Kyle's 'cure' he was happy with the way things were at that moment. Maybe it would be better this way...

* * *

Ahh! That's chapter 13. And of course, I didn't want to make it any unluckier than it was, so it was more of a laid-back chapter of sorts. Uh, I might not update _as_ frequently anymore, so I'll make each deadline TWO weeks from update date, instead of one. This way, it gives me more time to think of what I'm writing and stuff. 

Uhm, **NOT KENNYKYLE**. That's only for now. Obviously, we're gonna end up with a StanKyle story.

Still though, **two** reviews to bump up that date by one day. Like always

Zakuyoe, signing out.


	14. I is less than three times U

So.**_ I would like to take this opportunity to "advertise" a new story of mine, called SACRIFICE._** It's going to be my project after completing this one, and so I put up the first chapter to give you guys an idea on what it's about.

Seven reviews on chapter 13. W00t!

AHHHH my chapter are getting shorter again! I'll try making the next one longer.

**In this chapter** we will see Clyde's decision-turning speech/conversation to Stan. Yay Clyde!

Have fun reading. I'm not sure when I'll update next. Although I do know that I'll need at least _five_ to continue. But that shouldn't be that hard since I get... seven reviews on average per chapter, right?

**REMEMBER!** I do give out sneak peeks and hints of the next chapter on my profile. Check it out sometime if you want.

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Whether things would really be better this way would be determined in due time. 

Despite the fact that it was a Monday, Stan's geometry teacher did not teach that day. She had declared that the day be used for "effective studying" in order to pass the supposedly difficult test the next day. Stan couldn't comprehend the difficulty of triangles and the Pythagorean Theorem, but he chose to study nonetheless. He drowned out the conversations occurring around him and stared at his book. He didn't really like math, though he wasn't bad at it either. He browsed through the pages, unsure of exactly what he wanted to study. Math was boring, simply put.

"Stan Marsh?" The sound of his name brought him back to the familiar classroom. He turned his head to his teacher Ms. Virginia, and raised his head in recognition. "Clyde Donovan needs help with the material. Could you perhaps help him?" Clyde wasn't the best person at mathematics; he was extremely gifted with English, though. Stan recalled when Clyde's whole mathematical future had been shattered by their teacher Mr. Garrison, who had called him a complete retard for saying that five times two was twelve.

"What don't you understand?" asked Stan, and soon the two began talking about triangles, square roots, and angle measures. It hadn't been the most interesting of discusssions, Stan had to admit, but he didn't talk to Clyde often, and so it had been a new experience. Clyde had some sort of an accent which Stan couldn't grasp, but other than that he wasn't that bad of a kid.

"...have you ever heard of the ideal math equation?" he had heard Clyde asked.

"No."

"The most ideal equation," began Clyde, "where the variable I represents one person and the variable U represents... I think it was the person he or she is talking to, is I is less than three multiplied by U."

"I is less than three multiplied by U?" asked Stan, repeating what he had heard slowly. "What the hell?"

"It's some weird thing that Kenny showed me once," said Clyde, and for some reason the mere mentioning of Kenny's name sent emotions through Stan's spine. "See, when you write it down..." Clyde picked up his pencil and etched the equation onto his ruled notebook paper. "It says I heart you."

"Ah..." said Stan, his voice trailing away.

"Do you know much about dating?" asked Clyde, striking yet another random statement at Stan.

"Not really," said Stan. "Why?"

"I-i dunno," said Clyde, looking at his book. "There was this g-person that I liked, but now I know that I'll never be able to prove myself worthy and... stuff."

"Why do you say that?" asked Stan. "You need a little more confidence than that, buddy."

"Well... I found out that the person doesn't like people like me."

"What'd you mean?" asked Stan. He still wasn't sure why Clyde was telling him this. "There're a lot of different types of people. I mean, each person is their own type of person, in a way..."

"It's not that, it's that well... I'm gay," Clyde said meekly. This made sense to Stan now. But did that mean that...?

"Why are you telling me this, Clyde?" Stan asked.

"Well... seeing as that you're good friends with Kyle, I thought you might know something about... the matter." Stan sighed as he tapped the eraser end of his pencil on his desk.

"I'm not sure if I'm the one to help you," muttered Stan, and he frowned at the thought, "nor are you the person I would normall trust. Promise me that you won't tell anyone what I tell you?"

"Of course Stan, go ahead." Stan glanced towards their teacher, who seemed to be hard at work grading papers.

"I think I better associate with this other persons' position... I'm not saying I'm homophobic or anything, but... I was the one being liked. But I can still tell you some things though. Kyle liked me, I had figured out. But somehow our friendship had weakened from it... when Kyle came out to our group Cartman completely ditched him. I tried my hardest not to do the same thing, but I think that I may have come across differently to him. The actions that I had wanted to do were never done, and the next few days had been a series of arguments and making ups.

"Then... it happened. Somehow he got wound up with Kenny. I didn't see it coming. And though I thought that it would be better on me now that the feelings that Kyle felt for me wouldn't be given anymore, I still felt... different. Like I lost Kyle even further, and this time to Kenny. It might be jealousy; I don't know. But I just feel different. Like I might've done something I knew I shouldn't have." He looked up at Clyde, who was reading his book. He was nodding his head though, and so Stan had hoped that that was a sign that he was listening.

"You don't know what you've got until you've said goodbye," muttered Clyde, causing Stan to stop tapping his pencil. It had made perfect sense... When Kyle had liked Stan he had told himself that he didn't like Kyle back. He ignored all the stipulations his brain was making, he ignored all the chances that he had to have Kyle, and he willed himself not to think of possibilities. He had seen chances with Kyle come and pass; he had ruined Kyle's hopes many times. And it really had been a sense of jealousy that Stan had felt whenever he saw Kenny with Stan. And now that Kyle was gone from his chances... he realized he really did like him.

Clyde's voice interrupted his train of thought. "But what can I do, Stan?"

"Don't tell this unless you're sure he'll be okay with it," muttered Stan. "Embrace the worst in case it happens, and-" Stan was speaking for himself now "-if he ever changes his mind try and consider it... consider giving him another chance..." He wiped any tears that might have flowed down from his eyes and smiled at the other boy. He made eye contact with Clyde, and the both of them smiled.

"Thanks Stan."

- - - - - - - - - -

As the day came to an end things seemed to be becoming better. Stan heard of nothing from Clyde, Kenny, or Kyle for the rest of the day, and that seemed to be a pleasing thought, in odd ways. His realization would probably get the better of him anyways, and somehow end up screwing Kyle's current happiness. Of course, his realization probably wanted that, but Stan knew that that wouldn't be fair either.

After talking about genetics in Punnett squares in Biology the last bell had rung. This was pure bliss to most people, although there were a few students who preferred to stay in school longer. Stan made his way through the halls to his locker, which was always situated outside a student's fifth period class.

His locker was conveniently next to Clyde's, though he hadn't noticed it until that moment. He patted the boy on his back and greeted him.

"Have you told him yet?" asked Stan plesantly. Clyde shook his head as he fitted a textbook into his bag.

"Not yet. I figured out that he isn't homophobic though!" Clyde said with a smile.

"That's an improvement," said Stan, opening the door to his own locker. "So when are you going to tell him?"

"I'm not sure," said Clyde. "He just went out of some tiring stuff, and I'm not sure if I want to bomb him with some other stuff."

"Oh okay..." Who was Clyde talking about? Kyle? "Well, I have to go catch up with Kenny and Kyle. I'll see you around, Clyde?" The brown-haired boy nodded, and the two departed. Stan had forgotten to ask Clyde about who exactly it was he liked. He made a mental note to himself to ask the next time he saw him.

He found Kyle and Kenny sitting on a bench in their courtyard. He felt a strong urge to join them, but instead he merely gazed from a distance. Kyle's happiness over his, Stan had to keep reminding himself. The two would notice him eventually, or at least he hoped.

He took a seat on a nearby bench. He wasn't sure why there were so many benches in their courtyard. He remembered how the designer of their school didn't want the school to be just as closed in as North Park's high school. It was because of this that the courtyard was designed similarly to a park, though without the amusing slides.

He shut his eyes and enjoyed the breeze that swept by. Stan had always loved the winter; though it was cold it was also rather breezy, and feeling the wind against his cheeks felt nice. Why he was so interested in the weather now Stan didn't really know, but perhaps it was because he had nothing to do.

He didn't really know what to think now. In his head things were all screwed up. Only hours ago he had resolved that he truly liked Kyle. But where would he go from there? He would be in the same position that Kyle was in, only... different. He had already wasted the chance that Kyle had given him. What made him think that Kyle would be willing to present him another chance, especially when he already had Stan.

Crying in the cold was not a good idea, yet Stan couldn't help himself. He felt his tears water out of his eyes, icily trickling down his cheeks. He felt the wind smearing the tears on his skin, the cold feeling covering an even greater area. He raised his jacket sleeve to wipe it off, but only more took its place. Stan gave a frustrated sigh.

He looked over to where the two boys were seated. They hadn't noticed his absence, nor did they notice him sitting by himself in a bench within their eyesight. Even from where Stan was he could see Kenny's arm wrapped around the other's waist, and jealousy filled the spectator. Kenny's left hand was entwinded with Kyle's, and the Jewish boy rested his head on the other. Stan looked upon his own shoulder and sighed.

"You okay?" asked a voice, and when Stan was torn away from his object of desire he had found Clyde standed near him. He beckoned towards the empty seat next to Stan. "...may I?" Stan nodded and made some room for the boy to sit.

"I'm fine," said Stan, peering over at Kyle and Kenny once more. Clyde followed Stan's gaze, and he mumbled.

"He's happy with him," muttered Clyde. "I know you like him, now that he doesn't anymore, but don't you at least want him to be happy?"

"Yeah." _No._

"If things turn out for you then you'll leave Kenny heartbroken. It's all come down to who'll be the one denied in the end, Stan. The question is... would you be willing to take the hurt for yourself, or would you rather hurt your friends?" In his mind Stan knew that he'd rather take the hurt, but the feelings inside of him were telling otherwise. He didn't want to hurt his friends, especially Kyle. But...

"I had a question," said Stan, taking his mind off the subject. "Who was the guy that you liked?"

"Me?" asked Clyde, and when Stan had affirmed his question he began to stammer. "Well, I-"

"It's okay, dude," said Stan. "I won't tell anyone. You know who I like anyways."

"Well... he's already going through enough, and I'm sure that I probably won't tell him anymore and-"

"Just say it, Clyde."

"-and I'm not sure if I really-"

"Clyde!"

"All right all right... you, Stan." Just as things couldn't have gotten any more awkward at that moment between the two, Kyle and Kenny had decided to finally recognize Stan's presence. "Shit Stan, they're coming. Don't be angry with me..."

"Angry?" aske Stan, and as he saw the two boys coming closer, hands interlocked, he blushed deeply. "I don't want to ruin two peoples' lives, Clyde..."

"I know you have to," said Clyde. "You said to embrace the worst... remember?"

"Clyde, I..." Why did it have to be this way? Why would he have to be the one to break the hearts of everyone. Stan took a deep breath and sighed. "I'd like to see how this will work," he mumbled at last. The other boy stared at him.

"Really Stan?"

"Yeah," muttered Stan. And as the two other boys finally arrived Stan and Clyde got up from their bench. They greeted each other casually, and as Kyle began to talk to Kenny Stan grabbed Clyde's hand and entwined their fingers together.

Perhaps this had been what Kyle had done with Kenny. Maybe he had only said yes because it had been a sort of redemption. Maybe he was fine settling with what he had, just as Stan had settled for Clyde. And had it been the other way too? Had Clyde liked Stan out of pity, much similar to Kenny had liked Kyle out of pity? Within that very instant Stan had become Kyle, and Kyle had become Stan. They were now at the same place, at the same page, and in the same circumstance of life. They were at the same level in the game of life...

...and Kyle had become the better player.

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Uh. Yeah. Eherm. I guess I'll have to state that it's not a StanClyde story either. I HATED writing this chapter. I dunno why though. 

Review the chapter anyways. Please. **Read my other story, "Sacrifice"!**


	15. Schemes of any kind always backfire

So now I've come across my fifteenth chapter. It's very exciting.

I decided to post this on October 5th, 2006. DUDE! The new South Park Episode is SO GREAT. I loved it, especially Butters. But I won't spoil anything yet.

I'm also going to say that this is roughly the halfway point of the story. Hooray! And of course, there's no turning back now. I have to finish this... or else five different people will somehow murder me.

**TEN REVIEWS!** WOW. I'm sorry, but... I'll probably disappoint you this chapter... the end is poorly written... to the extreme.

I hope I don't disappoint anyone with this chapter. So, without further ado, here is my next chapter. Credits go to Savage Garden, Three Days Grace,

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_I believe the sun should never set upon an argument...  
I believe we place our happiness in other people's hands...  
I believe you can't control or choose your sexuality...  
I believe forgiveness is the key to your happiness...  
I believe in love surviving death into eternity...  
I believe the grass is no more greener on the other side...  
I believe you don't know what you've got until you say goodbye..._

"Until you say goodbye," Stan mumbled. He was sitting at his desk, head buried in his arms, and an MP3 stuck in his ear. He had stayed in this position for quite some time, either ignoring everyone around him or honestly not hearing people calling for him. He didn't want to be disturbed; he only wanted to think... keep on thinking until everything was crystal clear in his own head. No stipulations. No if's, or sudden realizations. He wanted to spend time trying to sort out his feelings, his life. Screw anything else.

The more current matter on his mind was Clyde. It had only been that day - that afternoon - that Clyde asked Stan for help, and it was that very same day that he had told Stan his feelings for him. It had happened extremely quickly, and Stan was still trying to figure out for himself why he had accepted. At the time, he had not wanted to hurt two different people, and in order to avoid the situation he accepted Clyde's offer. But what impression did that leave? Kyle would just think that Stan was desperate, or uncaring, if he was to ever get Kyle back. So then did he really love Clyde? Stan wasn't sure. He barely talked to the boy until that day, and even when the four had walked home from school in the ankle-high snow it was very clear that his relationship was a one-sided affair. It was clear that Clyde loved Stan. But whether Stan could return those feelings relied completely on Stan.

Stan thought about Kenny, who was probably spending time with Kyle right now, something he definitely wasn't doing with Clyde. He still wondered if Kenny truly loved Kyle, especially since Kenny had taken no previous interest in the boy before the rare occurrence. He thought about how his bond with Ike had grown stronger, and that maybe he had used Ike to get closer to Kyle. It was a likely probability, but not likely. After all, Kenny kept mentioning of Stan's inability to hide his love for Kyle, as he had said. Yet as he thought about this Ms. Sagisak's words replayed over and over in his head. Maybe Kenny really had used the situation to express his own feelings. Maybe he had continuously asked Stan about the matter to make sure that his future moves would not conflict with Stan's current emotions. This was an even more likely probability, but it wasn't too big of an issue for Stan to keep thinking about it.

Of course, Kyle plagued Stan's head the most. He had been the reason the whole affair had begun, that one fateful afternoon when he had approached the group after a round of skating. From there it had gone downhill, beginning with his own assumptions, continuing with the questioning of friendship, and crashing horrifically with his parents' realization. Stan wondered how that was going, and if his parents were okay with Kyle now that the intial shock had passed. Furthermore, what would they think of Kyle when they realized that Kenny was his new boyfriend?

As _I Hate Everything About You_ began to play on his MP3 player his mind shifted gears. What about Cartman? He hadn't heard from him in ages, and Stan was beginning to wonder what was going on with their old friend. Hopefully he didn't have some magnificent plan up his sleeve, magnificent in the design of evil. Stan feared Cartman; Adolf Hitler had been his childhood hero, and Hitler had discriminated both Jews and homosexuals during the Holocaust. It was because of Cartman that their friendship had broken slightly, or at least Stan saw it that way. Cartman had been the first to turn on Kyle, he had beaten up Kyle, and he challenged Kyle about his sexuality. That was enough evidence for Stan.

He banged his head on the desk surface several times in his frustration. Where was he going to go from there? Would he play along with Clyde, or would he try making this relationship work? And what about Kyle? Now that he was out of his grasp, would he try to take him away from Kenny while hurting Clyde? Things seemed to highly be against him, and Stan didn't like it one bit.

A ring of the telephone perked his interest. He let it ring, positive that someone else would answer it. Stan almost never answered the phone, though if it was for him he didn't mind talking. Most of his friends contacted him by his computer, and so a phone call for him was a rare occurence. Of course, when his mother had said it was Clyde on the phone Stan slapped himself on the forehead; Stan hadn't talked to Clyde outside of school before, and so naturally he wouldn't have his messenger information.

"Hey."

"Hey dude" Stan replied. "What's up?"

"Oh nothing much," was his reply, "You?"

"Same. How'd you get my phone number anyways?" Stan was returned with a long list of names. Apparently, Wendy had told Bebe once, and she had passed the information to Tweek. Why Tweek Stan didn't know, and so when Clyde asked Butters if he knew Stan's phone number Butters transferred him over to Tweek. It was a weird chain, Stan had to admit.

"Kenny invited us to the movies," Clyde told him after he had recited the chain. This had caught Stan's attention, but it wasn't visible to Clyde. "He said it'd be some sort of a double date. Me and you with him and Kyle. Are you up for it?" On a normal circumstance Stan would have said yes. But something seemed odd here, almost fishy. Why would Kenny suggest such a thing?

"They don't want they're privacy?"

"Apparently not," said Clyde. "So do you want me to tell them we're in?" Stan nodded slowly, and then, after realizing that Clyde couldn't see his nod, he muttered a weak 'yeah' into the phone. "My mom's gonna pick you up at seven. I have to call Kenny back, so I'll talk to you later." Within two seconds after Clyde had finished speaking he heard the dial tone, which meant that no one was present on the other side. Stan shut his MP3 off and let out a frustrated sigh.

Fate really wasn't going to give him a break any time soon.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan eyed himself in the mirror as he held out several outfits in front of him. It wasn't something he was accustomed to doing, and it was something that he would even consider girly. Never had Stan Marsh ever cared about what shirt he wore, but then again he had never gone on a date. And even if he was going on a double date he still wanted to dress nicely, no matter who he was doing it for.

He shook his head in disagreement as he returned a light green polo shirt back to his closet. He had realized how much clothing mattered in a date, and in the past he had always criticized anyone else who had done it. He remembered when Bebe had come up to him a few years ago asking for his guidance in clothing. Stan had dismissed her saying he was no expert at the matter, and referred her to Wendy.

Oddly enough her date had been with Clyde. It was kind of odd how recent events were playing out. Clyde once going out with Bebe, Kyle once liking Rebecca, Kenny once looking at craploads of Playboy, and Stan barfing over Wendy... maybe it was just a phase... maybe the four would all go back to their heterosexual ways.

Stan had finally decided upon a blue polo shirt, and he topped it off (or bottomed) with a pair of jeans. He stared at himself in front of the mirror for a few seconds, and when in his mind he declared himself decent he proceeded into the bathroom to brush his teeth. It was now 6:55, and Clyde's mother was bound to come any second. Stan wondered if Clyde's mother knew the purpose behind their outing, or if she was just as ignorant in the matter as his own mother.

Speaking of his mother... was it a good idea to tell her? Stan wasn't even sure if his relationship with Clyde was based on anything true... how he had been willing to play things out. So would telling his mother be a good idea? As Stan spat toothpaste out of his mouth he thought of it again, and finally decided that he would tell his mother later once things got more serious.

He heard the doorbell ring downstairs, and as he wiped his mouth with a face towel he heard his mother get the door. He was then blessed with a large amount of high pitched greetings, and Stan supposed that Ms. Donovan and his mother hadn't seen each other in a while. Stan tiptoed his way down the stairs and hastily put on his jacket.

"...I haven't see you in forever, Sharon!" Mrs. Donovan was saying, confirming Stan's assumption. Stan reached the bottom step and made his way to the door. As he put on his shoes Clyde's mother caught sight of him. "Oh hello darling. Clyde's in the car."

"It's such a good thing that the boys are all going out to watch a movie," said Stan's mother, and he silently chuckled at her naivety. He put a toque on his head and stuff his hands in his pocket, making the short walk to Clyde's mother's car. He saw Clyde from the passenger window, and waved a hello as he climbed into the back.

"She has no clue?" asked Stan, and Clyde affirmed his statement. A silence filled the car for some time, and only their breathing could be heard. As Clyde's mother was returning from her chat Stan broke the silence. "So what movie are we watching?"

"I dunno," said Clyde. "Kenny said he'd surprise all of us." Stan nodded slightly as his mother entered the car. Within seconds the engine started, which meant that the heater turned on. As the car began rolling away from Stan's house he silently thanked Prometheus for the gift of fire, even though the heat wasn't exactly coming from a flame.

The voyage to the movie theater hadn't been a long one. Once the car had parked in front of their only theater the two boys gave their thanks to Clyde's mother, watching her drive away into the horizon. Then the two began walking around the theater's entrance, looking for any signs of Kenny or Kyle. Stan hesitated for some time, but after considering the matter for a good few seconds he founds Clyde's hand and entwined his fingers with his own. He felt Clyde lean onto him, and the two remained leaning against a nearby wall.

It was a good fifteen minutes later when the two had decided to show up. Stan was slightly angry with them, having had to stand against a wall in the cold just to wait for them. Of course Clyde's presence had warmed him, but it still didn't quite beat indoor heating. Mrs. Broflovski had driven the kids there, and she didn't look too pleased. Stan wondered if she knew about Kyle and Kenny.

"You have fun now," she told Kyle in a bitter tone. As Stan and Clyde approached the car she added to Stan, "Watch out for my buhbie, Stan," and she gave an evil glare at Kenny.

"We'll have fun," said Kenny in a low voice, winking at Kyle's mother. He and Kyle turned away to walk towards the ticket counter, and as Mrs. Broflovski had said her infamous "Wha-wha-what?" Stan and Clyde decided to follow suit.

The movie hadn't been very much of a date movie. Even though Stan _really_ wanted to watch "Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Goblet in the Chamber of Azkaban" he was distracted by Kyle and Kenny to his right. He felt Clyde hold on to his left hand throughout the movie, and Stan was sure that Clyde knew Stan was glancing at the boy to his right more than to him. Stan felt slightly bad, but he argued that Clyde needed to understand that he still liked Kyle in some small manner.

...but then why was he dating Clyde? Oh yeah, because Stan didn't want to hurt two people.

Stan tried his best to watch the movie, but somehow Daniel Radcliff flying on an obviously fake flying broomstick didn't interest him. He felt Kyle shift beside him, and soon after felt Kenny's gloved hand brush on his jacket. He could feel himself heating up, and only stared at the screen harder.

But why was he merely watching their game, Stan had thought. Why not join in the game himself? Stan smiled at this idea, but he wasn't sure why he liked it. He turned to Clyde, who was still holding on to his left hand, and leaned into the brown haired boy. Clyde looked surprised at Stan's new actions, but he allowed Stan to lay his head on his shoulder.

It was time to overtake Kyle in the game of life.

He could feel the stares of others on him, just like the ones that Kyle probably felt as well. He nudged Clyde in the side, and after jerking his head slightly Clyde responded by wrapping an arm around the boy. Down below Stan nudged Kyle's feet, catching the boy's attention.

"I really care for you," Stan muttered, a sly smirk developing on his face; the dark theater hid his expression. He felt Clyde shudder, though he wasn't sure why, and remained on his shoulder. It wasn't until he was tapped rather harshly on the shoulder that he shot his head back upwards. "What the-?"

Kenny was playing his game. Stan felt a stabbing feeling when he found the blonde trapping the other boy against the chair, and the sight alone made him shudder. He didn't even bother registering the audiences cruel remarks, or even the whistling and the cheers. He muttered something in Clyde's ear, and then he stomped immediately out of the theater house.

Perhaps he hadn't won the game after all.

- - - - - - - - - -

Ugh! HORRIBLE chapter! I'm trying to move through their temporary relationships as quickly as possible. Of course, I'm failing. Review please!

Uhm, I was doing okay in the beginning, but I don't know where all that went...


	16. Pleasant Associations

I'm gonna make this chapter better than the last. Because despite all your kind words I still think it sucked.

Yes, I posted a one-shot called "Snowflakes." Read it. Review it. You'll make me really happy.

I'm answering reviews next chapter. Wow, apparently you guys went crazy with reviewing chapter 14. But it's all good.

Uh, may I begin?

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_**Chapter 16**_

"Stan, there's a phone call for you!" called Mrs. Marsh through the hallway. The boy, who had his face crushed into his pillow, mumbled with frustration, and did not bother making an effort to get out of his bed. His mother, of course, had been quite surprised when Stan had arrived home alone without the Donovan family, and even more shocked with the attitude he had given her when she had inquired. Stan's first move when he arrived home was to dive into the comfort of his bed, and three hours later he had neither fallen asleep nor moved his position. Simply put, he was consciously dead.

"I'm trying to sleep, mom!" yelled Stan, slamming the ends of his pillow against his ears. What would it take for his mother to realize that he didn't want to talk on the phone?

"Clearly," snapped his mother, and by the sound of it she was now at Stan's doorway. "It's your friend Kyle, and I'm not going to tell him that you're trying to sleep. So you better pick up that phone, Stanley." Stan was quite surprised at the usage of his full name, yet it was to good effect; he had immediately risen from his lying position to grab the phone. He sighed as he took the telephone from his mother and talked into it.

"Hey, dude."

Shit, Kyle! Where had he been when his mother told him who was on the line?

"Hey yourself," Stan replied. Even though they were only communicating by telephone Stan could still feel the nervousness of his voice. The image of Kyle and Kenny at the movie theater was still painfully instilled in his mind, and as he tried shaking the visual out of his mind he felt a stabbing pain inside of him.

_I believe you don't know what you've got until you've said goodbye..._

"Where'd you run off to?" Kyle asked innocently. Whether he was actually being innocent depended on the eye of the beholder, so of course Stan naturally thought Kyle to be lying.

"I went home," snapped Stan.

"Dude, you don't have to be so sharp about it," said the voice on the other side of the phone. "But why the sudden hurry? You left your own boyfriend there." He could hear Kyle's distaste in saying that sentence. Stan figured that it was probably because he had denied him but not Clyde. Though of course... Stan really did wish it was because he still wanted Stan to be his.

Who said it wasn't okay to dream?

"It's nothing," Stan dismissed.

"Bullshit." The language startled Stan, but then he supposed he deserved it. "You're hiding something from me, Stan."

"Am not," said Stan. "And even if I am, what's it to you?"

"Stan, I'm you're best friend!" said Kyle, and Stan could hear a change in his tone, and it was almost as if he were ready to cry; then again maybe he was, because moments later when he resumed speaking his voice was hitched. "A-aren't I?"

"Yeah," said Stan. "But you have Kenny... I have Clyde..."

"Me having Kenny and you having Clyde doesn't change anything between us," said Kyle. "Look... I'm going over there. Expect me in a few."

"Kyle, don't-" but the boy had already hung up. Sighing, the raven-haired boy slammed the phone onto his desk, and found his way into the restroom. He hadn't changed when he arrived home, but his hair was still a mess and he wanted to at least look decent for his guest. He messed up his hair with his hands, and after splashing water into his face and hair he was satisfied with his appearance. He looked at the restroom mirror one last time, straightened out the hems of his shirt, and left. He found his way to the living room, flopped onto the couch, and turned on the television.

"Breaking news from North Park-" muttered the news reporter before Stan switched the channel. There wasn't much to watch this late at night, which annoyed Stan since it disrupted his channel-surfing. after returning to the local news station he shut the television. He needed a better plan to pass time. He supposed that Kyle was walking over to his house, and so the boy would be arriving any minute. There wasn't much luck in making a grand escape.

Several minutes later he heard the doorbell ring, which surprised Stan because he thought that Kyle would have enough sense to think that perhaps Stan's parents would be asleep. Thankfully they weren't though, and so Stan opened the door without causing any commotion.

"Hey dude," said Kyle, taking off his hat and shaking off the fallen snow.

"Hey yourself." Just like on the phone. The two stood in their positions for several moments, Stan not stepping aside to let Kyle in, and the other not making an attempt to do so. It was only when Mr. Marsh peeked his head out of the kitchen to see who was at the door when Stan was told to let his friend in. Kyle shook off his boots and placed them neatly by the front door. Then the two looked at each other again, another silence taking control of the moment. After some time Kyle decided to clear his throat.

"Want to talk in your room?"

"No."

"Here?"

"No."

"Where?"

"Nowhere." Kyle chose to deny Stan's request, and instead pulled the boy up the stairs and into his own room. He made sure that the two of them were fully into the room before closing it shut behind him. Stan made his way to the bed, where he fell onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. Kyle followed suit, and soon the two of them lay on the bed beside each other. Stan could feel himself turning red, but he did his best not to show it.

"Kenny doesn't replace you," said Kyle at last, breaking the silence that had seemed to find its home in their conversations. "Ever since Kenny asked me out you've been... distant. It's like you're bothered by the fact that we're together, or you're jealous, or something. I just want you to know that whatever happens between Kenny and I... if we split or if we grow into something more... I'll always regard you as my highest friend. And I hope you think the same about me." Stan nodded, agreeing with his friend. It made enough sense in his mind... at least he thought.

"I'm sorry," said Stan, and with that they ended the issue with a friendly hug. Stan went through the roof with this, but because of the hug Kyle couldn't see how red his face was turning. One day he knew he'd have to tell Kyle, and one day he knew that Kyle would be angry for Stan's decision to turn him down and suddenly want him back. For now though Stan willed himself to keep what he could... once he lost it it'd be hard to get back... he knew that now.

"One more thing... Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I... crash here for tonight? My mom's not too happy for what Kenny and I did..." Stan bit on his lip as the visual returned to him. Hopefully he wasn't making his uneasiness too obvious. "...I think she might murder me. So can I...?"

"Sure," said Stan. He flashed Kyle a genuine-looking smile, though Stan knew it was fake, and motioned his hand towards his bed. "You can have the bed. I'll find a sleeping bag to crash on the floor."

"Thanks," said Kyle, and as Stan left the room he shuddered, trying to avoid the visual that was now taunting his mind. Yet as he informed his skeptical mother of Kyle's sleeping over he remembered a line to a particular song he had listened to not that long ago...

_I believe you can't appreciate real life 'till you've been burned..._

Stan knew he would find out soon enough.

- - - - - - - - - -

"That's absolute nonsense, Stan," Kyle said defiantly. The two boys were dressed in their pajamas, both standing on a red sleeping bag, and staring at Stan's bed. Stan had returned to find Kyle lying down on his bed, dressed in his pj's though not yet under the covers. Kyle took one look at the sleeping bag and immediately got up to his feet and began shaking his head. Stan hadn't noticed this, and it was only when the bag was set up on the floor that he had heard Kyle's disagreement.

"Dude it's fine," said Stan. "You can sleep on the bed. I don't mind."

"But it's your house! Your room! You shouldn't be sleeping on the floor!"

"You're my guest," Stan shot back, "and guests don't sleep on the floor."

"Then I'll sleep on the couch so that you can sleep in your own bed," said Kyle.

"Don't do that," said Stan. The argument had lasted for some time, and each time as it seemed about to end the other shot out something that incited it once more. Simply said it was a rather pathetic topic, but that didn't stop either boy. However, just as Stan shot a reply to Kyle's idea of sleeping with his parents, Kyle said something that halted anything that Stan would've said after him.

"If you don't want to sleep anywhere else just sleep here with me." Wait, what?

"Kenny would probably get mad at me, dude," said Stan. "Besides... I might catch the kooties sleeping with you."

"Kenny won't know," said Kyle, "nor will he care. We're just sleeping next to each other...not _with_ each other." Stan took a look at the ragged sleeping bag and gave in. He felt his body temperature rising exponentially, but as before he did his best to keep it under control. He had to admit though... sleeping next to Kyle on a bed would probably feel more comfortable than on the floor.

No duh.

"Goodnight then," said Stan, and he dove into the far side of his bed and buried his face into his pillows. After a few minutes the lights went out, and a weight beside his own signaled that Kyle was also on the bed. He did his best to keep calm and to fall asleep. Still though... Kyle lying next to him...

"Stan?" asked Kyle, and Stan could almost argue that he had asked in a hopeful manner.

"Yeah?"

"What did Clyde have that I didn't...?" Ah, shit.

"I'm tired," replied the boy, turning even more red, yet also trying to answer the question for himself. "Wake me up early before school tomorrow and I'll answer that, okay?" He heard the boy beside him mutter something, and he had assumed that to be a yes. Yet within the silence that proceeded Stan asked himself that question slowly... what did he have that Kyle didn't? And why was he asking? He had Kenny, didn't he? Why was he still concerned with what Stan saw in him?

Unless... he still was concerned... was Kyle really in a situation not that much different from his own? Maybe Kyle had only said yes to Kenny because he didn't want to let go of another chance... Stan was sure he had thought this situation before but... now it was almost as if he was hoping it to be so. He sighed, turned his head towards the boy, and asked:

"Do you love Kenny, Kyle?"

"I'm rather tired and I can't answer any questions," mocked Kyle. "Wake me up tomorrow before school and I'll answer your question in the most groggy way possible." Stan hoped that things would be sorted out soon. For now he'd have to sleep on that thought, which naturally was a hard subject to sleep upon.

But he was left with no choice, right?

* * *

Eh. Sucky chapter again. Beware Clyde fans... next chapter won't pass easily for you... 

New story, Snowflakes. Read it, review it, and other stuff. Right now I'm going to dash back to my fictionpress account and make a story there, because I'm dying to get it off my chest. Then I'll return here.

So, of course, _**REVIEW!**_


	17. When the World Stops Turning

So I've been reading other stories... and I've come to the conclusion that my story** sucks** compared to the stories of other authors. And so of course... that's not a very uplifting thought.

_Zakuyoe just got his heart broken... _so you might see **excess** angst. Sorry in advance.

To give a sneak peek of the upcoming chapter... the next school day, the big problem, and perhaps that debate? lol. Oh, and a dream that Stan has to prolong the chapter, and stuff.

Review replies... wow this is going to be bigger than I had expected... Yay **100** reviews! thanks guys!

**Mrpointyhorns:** you sly person, you... actually, that's probably going to be an important thing later on. But... no more spoilers. Thanks for reviewing! Though your review on chapter 14 trailed off... a lot...

**Bookyboo: **thanks for your reviews. Though, I still think that chapter 15 was pretty bad. It just seems kind of... bland. I dunno. I'll try making this one a relatively good chapter.

**Venus-Gurl:** Thank you once more for your reviews. And I definitely enjoyed that brainstorming session we had that one time. Erm... you might see more of it in later chapters.

**Bloody Auzzie Bogan Mate: **Thanks! And yes... StanClyde is only a necessary part of the story... I personally dislike it myself. Haha. But thanks for sticking with it until the end.

**Aurifex: **I don't think you've yet mentioned that chapter 16 was cute, haha. And as for what made you laugh... hmm. And don't think you'll get the answer to those questions soon... oh, and UPDATE your story! Serendipity is driving me to the edge; I love it so much that you not updating is the same thing as me killing myself. haha.

**Teklah:** I wish I could say that things would get better, but... they won't. Not right away. Hooray for drama. But erm, yeah it will eventually. I'd just keep dreaming until then (shrug). And Kenny... well, I'll make a KennyKyle story for you, maybe. I got some ideas already.

**Tackett: **It's a very remote version of parallelism. I wanted to tie in something between the two, if that makes sense at all. But yeah I liked that ending too. uh, updates are fun... heheh

**xZAGRFAN: **Thanks for the review. I was trying to see if you reviewed previously in another chapter, but I can't seem to find any. So erm, I don't have much to say (sigh).

**Spice of Life: **Uh, yeah? _Style_ slash definitely has style. Wow that was corny. But yes... the StanClyde thing is getting to my head. So expect something in this chapter.

**Le-PrePo-Liebe**: Thanks for the reviews! I'm not sure what you meant by _That rocked hard rocks_, haha. But that's why I hate idiomatic phrases... and stuff.

**Blackout12:** AHHH thanks for reviewing! Eh, my mind is sooo not overcreative. But you are right in that the Clydeness is boggling. And I just realized that Cartman's puppet is named Clyde-frog. hmmmm... (hint).

**cjmarie: **uh oh... silly baseball bat. Don't hit me with it though! ahh. Uh, but I hope that your computer stops unfreezing so that you can review again, haha. And you have to update that story again, no doubt. I want explanations!

**JumpinPopTarts:** I loooooove pop tarts. But random, of course. I am, of course, not mean... lol. And you'll have to stay on that seat edge for a while... you won't get to relax and sit back down by the last chapter, or maybe the epilogue.

**Nor Monisaux: **Dramatic... haha. hmm... I'm not sure if you're still reading, but thanks for your support up to this point.

**Too lazy to log-in: **Hm... I don't think I'm ruining a story by making them get together... but you are right, it's not really a typical slash story. But I promise you that the ending won't be _'disgusting'_ and stuff... no explicit stuff... just an ending. I'm not saying it's happy, but just an ending. haha.

**Kazami: **I haven't heard from you in a while either. But still, I thank you for all the reviews you've given; they've really made my day!

**maybeVADERsomedayLATER: **Haven't heard from you either. Still, I looooove your pen name, for reasons I am unsure of. and yes, footsie wars are the greatest. I had one yesterday at my lunch table, lol

**kennyclone:** YES! I loved the soda thing. Still, I have noooooo idea where it came from. I was trying to think of a funny event that could happen at a hospital, but... I mean come on, it's a **hospital**. So the soda thing came up instead...

**Kyle loves ME not YOU: **Aww I'm sorry. There are only some stories that make me cry, and those stories are usually my favorite. I recommend **_Psychic BS_**. It is an **excellent** story, and very realistic, unlike my story. Though I'm trying!

**_WOW!_** and now that I'm finallllly done, I think I can finally start the story. By the way, right now I'm listening to the song _On My Own_ from "Les Miserables." I suggest you listen to it and stuff; it's really inspiring, and I guess if this song had a theme song it would be this one. And so... **chapter 17!**

* * *

_"In the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit..." That Sunday morning had been no different from any other; a congregation dying to leave, the weary sermons that Father Maxi gave that lulled everyone to sleep, and of course, the prospect of the football game later that day. Stan let out a frustrated moan as he stood among the pews, categorizing himself with the rest of his fellow Catholics wanting to leave. Sure, he wasn't saying that the Catholic Church in itself was stupid because its followers were so bored by their own religion, but it was just that he had other questions to think about. It was a few minutes more until the end of the mass service, and he knew that as his fellow students would rush out of the church cheering and returning to their consuming video games and sport programs he would instead be waiting for Father Maxi to finish greeting the church-goers goodbye in order to talk to him._

_He did his best to not seem eager about asking the subject. Of course he had failed; he truly had to know for himself the answer to the question. But it was at least some guarantee that he wouldn't have to be speaking as if it wasn't himself he was referring to, since the question truly pertained to one of his friends._

_"Well hello there," said the priest. "How are you today, Stan?"_

_"I'm good, father," said Stan. "Are you busy right now?"_

_"No, no... of course not," said Father Maxi. He directed the boy outside the church, and Stan followed the priest along a small dirt path into a portable-looking house. His father had always warned him not to enter a place alone with a Catholic priest after the Catholic-priest scandal, but Stan trusted Father Maxi, and he knew that he wouldn't do anything. He offered Stan a seat on a small wooden chair, and as he left to get a cup of orange juice Stan noticed how humbly the priest lived. It was so simplistic, and Stan supposed that that was how all the priests were supposed to live. Nonmaterialistic._

_"Thank you," said Stan as he gratefully accepted his drink._

_"Now tell me, Stan. What's troubling you?"_

_"Well you see, father," said Stan. "Even though I've been to bible study and all, there's something I'm not quite sure of. I'm still confused on how the bible views homosexuality."_

_"Oh... that's a tough issue," said Father Maxi. "Anything in particular that you want to know?"_

_"Well," began Stan, "just the whole thing in general. Is it accepted by the Catholic church, or even by any religion?"_

_ "Well..." began Father Maxi, and Stan could just tell that he wasn't going to get a direct answer from the man. "I'm not sure if I'm the right person to ask. You see, if homosexuality was condemned then those child-molesting priests would be condemned as well... I can say that the act itself isn't normal, but... whether it is accepted or not I can't say."_

_"Why not?" asked Stan in frustration. "You're a Catholic priest! If you don't know than who does?"_

_"I think that asking Jesus would be a better bet," said Father Maxi. "Of course, God himself would be an even better bet. But they are higher up the ranks, so to say. Talk to them." Stan nodded understandingly, and as he sipped the last of the orange juice from his cup the boy got up and said his thanks._

And of course, that had been that. Stan had followed his advice, but writing to God did not seem to help the situation much at all. Of course it wasn't really like that, as it was more like Stan hadn't even gotten a response yet. Still, it had been so long ago, and the question was still left unanswered. And though at the time he had meant the answer to help Kyle, now he wondered the answer for his own benefit.

Stan sat up on his bed, being careful to not wake up the boy beside him. He couldn't stop thinking of how he was sleeping next to Kyle. Kyle! Stan glanced to his side, and saw how peacefully the boy slept. His figure rising like the tides of water (though with a much higher frequency), and the sound of his breathing like the maxima on a sine graph, occurring only periodically. He was so peaceful, both when he was awake, and when he was asleep.

And Stan had to remind himself that he could've been his.

He felt a salty tear trickle down his cheek as he continued to stare at Kyle. Why did he so harshly reject the boy? He tried to remember why he didn't like him to begin with. Of course it was human to feel that way; when someone is filled with passion towards a person, it becomes incredulous how other emotions could have possibly been felt in the past. Stan felt similarly, and though all he wanted to do was embrace the halcyon boy in his arms the only thing he could do was watch him sleep and continue to wallow in self-pity.

Perhaps Stan needed help. Perhaps that being with Clyde wouldn't really help him in any way. It would only plague Stan further to have feelings for someone else besides him. It wouldn't be fair to the boy, who was innocent in every respect. Stan supposed he'd have to call the one-sided relationship eventually.

He supposed that was a start.

- - - - - - - - - -

Stan was extremely surprised to find an empty bed when he woke up. He looked around for any signs of the boy, perhaps a used toothbrush or a note on the table, but he found nothing. Stan found this occurrence quite odd, but he left for school nevertheless, not wanting to be late for school.

As he had found out later that morning Kyle had merely left early from the house. Kyle told him that it was "to meet Kenny," and though Stan accepted this as valid he felt disturbed by it. It hadn't affected the two much though, and they were still able to present their Edgar Allen Poe project without too much difficulty.

"Great job," Clyde had complimented after their presentation. Stan had felt a hole when he had said this, mainly because he knew that he was going to have to break his heart soon enough. At the time though he merely nodded and smiled, shooting the compliment right back at him when Clyde finished his own presentation.

It was only during third period, Stan's American Government class, that things began to change. Ms. Kitorese had returned, but as Stan's hopes went down the drain (and Cartman's had increased) she had declared that the debate would not take place.

"But _miss_," said Cartman, "I was really psyched to present today!"

"I can't hold the debate," said Ms. Kitorese. "There's a lot of things we need to cover still, for starters. We need to get through major court cases, like Brown v. the Board of Education, and Marbury v. Madison. We need to cover the Judiciary Act and Judicial Review. Basically, we simply have no time. Also, I believe that the topic we're debating on has become too controversial, and though that was the main point of the debate it has extended to a major degree. I was informed that on Friday a boy was beat up, and today another. I simply can't proceed with the debate. Now, if you would all turn to pages-"

"Aw, that's bullcrap," said Cartman, and Stan looked at the boy with complete distaste. He knew that Cartman was responsible for the attack on Friday. But... what about that boy today? Stan looked around the room, and though after he counted the kids in the class he knew that they were on student short, he couldn't quite place a name on who it was exactly.

"They don't even have their full team anyways," said Craig.

"I'm not arguing the topic further," said their teacher. "Now if you would _please_ turn to-"

"That's bullcrap," said Cartman. "They were all fags anyways."

"Stan's not a fag," said Kenny in his defense.

"Yeah he so is," said Cartman.

"No."

"Yeah."

"No."

"Ah fine!" yelled Craig. "But Clyde's still a fag. We all know that." And at that moment it hit Stan. He knew who was missing. Even more... he knew who was responsible.

"Where's Clyde?" Stan asked. The class remained quiet after this question; some truthfully didn't know the answers, others concealed the truth, and even others knew but didn't want to be involved. Stan repeated the question once more, and still he got no response. He knew that Cartman knew what was going on, and he refused to break eye contact with him.

"I quite frankly _remember_ saying to flip to pages-"

"Do _you_ know, Ms. Kitorese?" asked Stan.

"Why of course," she replied. "But I don't see why it concerns you so much. In fact, why does all of this concern everyone? For the millionth time, can we all just turn to-"

"Tell me," said Stan. The teacher gave a long sigh, not wanting to give in to Stan. In the end though she knew that she wasn't going to get anywhere with her class. She gave in.

"He's in the hospital," she said softly. "During his second period class he was beat up because he was suspected of being gay. No one's been able to find out why this happened, but I personally suspect that it's a hate crime by ANTIGSA."

"Hey!" said Cartman. "We had no association with that whatsoever!"

"Token did," blurted Craig before realizing that it had been a wrong move. But Stan was no longer paying attention to the class around him. If he had heard correctly... someone, or some people, had beaten up Clyde... and it was a weird feeling that Stan was feeling. Early that morning Stan felt the need to break Clyde's heart for his benefit, but now... Stan couldn't put himself through it. He just couldn't part with the boy with this much in his life. He already had enough with his life... breaking apart from him would hurt him more.

And Stan realized... all the times he complained about having to break two hearts at once... but it was so much worse having one heart broken twice.

* * *

Ahhh it was way too short! But I can't think of anything more! I **PROMISE!** I'll make the next chapter long. And I'm serious. It's gonna be another _Stylish _chapter.

Clyde fans, it's not yet over...

**review!** and read **Snowflakes**! Make me happy. I need all the happiness I can get.

And now... I'm going back to my room to think of ways to mend the friendship I just completely broke. (sigh).


	18. Past Illusions, Present Realities

So I'm going to be optimistic... this chapter is going to be really gooood! (and then, watch it suck... lol)

**New random disclaimer!** I know that the majority of you don't do this, but I was browsing through some work on DeviantArt and saw a lot of fanart for fanfiction stories. Soooo... if for some reason you feel motivated to draw something from my story (I don't see how you could do that right now though...) I **do** give you permission, though I would also request that you give me a link so I can see it too. So yeah. I don't really care. :)

So uh... a lot of KylesupportingStan (that be one word, lol) in this chapter. Or at least I hope to. And I'm working on placing the kids in character. Meh. I suck at that; I'll admit that much.

And for my personal blurb... no I have not mended that friendship yet. And yes, my heart still feels broken. But I'm venting by writing this. So it's all good.

_**I want to aim for twelve reviews this chapter... **_Why, you ask me? It's rather silly; thirteen reviews bring me to 126 total... making an even seven reviews per chapter. haha... I'm a math nerd. **BUT** that doesn't necessarily mean that I won't update if I don't get that many. It also doesn't mean that you guys are only reviewing that much; I think you gave like 12 reviews for chapter 14. THANKS! Review replies are gonna be in chapter... 20 or 21.

Current song addiction? It's Not Goodbye, by Laura Pausini.

Thanks for the reviews... you guys pwn. Now... erm, this is where chapter 18 starts...

* * *

It would be to no surprise, of course, that the whole school would learn what happened to Clyde. 

Stan didn't like that idea one bit. News and gossip traveled way too fast at this school, and he knew that one day it would hurt him. He wasn't sure if anyone knew about the incident before Ms. Kitorese told her third period class, but he was definitely sure that within the next period it was almost as if every student knew. Thankfully not that many people knew yet that he had a close relationship with the boy, and so he wasn't asked much about the matter.

Yet even with this absence of pestering questions Stan felt troubled, and knowing that he still had to serve a full detention for Mr. Absenence didn't help at all. Clyde was hurt, and Stan was stuck at school. As much as he wanted to break his relationship with the boy he still felt obligated to be by his side. Technically the two were not yet split, and not being there for Clyde would make him a bad boyfriend.

But another concept entered his mind... what would Kyle think of him? Sure, it was a rather cliché to think about, but it still bothered Stan. Would Kyle ever want a boyfriend who didn't look after him? Stan tried reassuring him that it was impossible to see him anyway due to school, but the idea still resounded in his head, and that Kyle wouldn't care anyway because he had Kenny.

Of course, the matter plagued his mind with no mercy. Every time Stan would try thinking of something else, football or school, television or how ANTIGSA would make his day any worse, guilt would set in, and Stan would be engrossed with the concept all over again. Even through lunch, one of Stan's favorite times of the day, he did not eat much, he did not talk much, and he didn't look at anyone else very much.

His friends did not fail in noticing, though.

"I'm fine," replied Stan when Kenny had asked him if he was feeling well.

"No you're not," retorted Kyle. "That's pretty bold of you to lie about something that obvious."

"He's right, dude," said Kenny. "If this is you being fine then I'm not sure how I met you." Stan glared at him and only hung his head further, which caused Kenny to add, "aw come on Stan, I was kidding."

"You sure you okay, dude?" asked Kyle. Stan nodded profusely.

"Of course." And that's how it had ended... for now. He left his lunch untouched, not even opened, and if his gaze could set things on fire his shoes would be incinerating by now. He could feel the two other occupants of the table staring at him, and occasionally several whispers. But none of it really matters to Stan. He just wanted to leave.

"...Remember guys, meeting after school..." Stan raised his head immediately after recognizing the voice. His eyes grew became malicious slits, snake-like, and sought the location of the cursed voice.

"...Yeah yeah, I know... we were supposed to have it yesterday but no one showed up..." After looking almost directly behind him Stan found his target.

Cartman.

He got out of his seat, and though he heard Kyle protest against what he was about to do he ignored him. He felt his fingers roll into balled fists, and his arms tensed. Fury filled his once-melancholy mind, and with his target set the only color he could see was red.

"...Remember to show up, yeh guys," said Cartman, and as he was prepared to throw his abnormally large lunch remnants into the trash Stan caught up with him.

"Why'd you do it, Cartman?" he seethed.

"I'm telling yeh," said Cartman. "I had nothin' to with it."

"What do you take me for?" spat Stan. "I wasn't born yesterday."

"Yeah, the day before," shot back Cartman. "Listen Stan, I told yeh in third period. We didn't have anything to do with it."

"Bullshit," cursed Stan. "Craig said something about Token. He's in your club, isn't he?"

"Well yeah," said Cartman. "But like I told yeh guys, ANTIGSA had nothin to do with that. He probably did it on his own accord."

"He's still influenced by your stupid club!" yelled Stan. "My point is not that you're a fucking homosexual hater! It's how you're treating them! You can hold your hatred to yourself, can't you?"

"Why do you care so much about Clyde?" asked Cartman. "Is it 'cause you're one too? Tell me, Stan, are _you_ gay?"

"No," Stan lied. "I just care that you're going around beating people up for an unjustified reason."

"Oh, like Kyle," Cartman smirked, causing Stan to breath steam out of his nose. "Well I told yeh we had nothin to do with it. If yeh don't believe me then screw you guys, I'm-"

"THEN GO HOME!" yelled Stan, and he stormed off.

Not... _quite_... the effect that he had wanted...

- - - - - - - - - -

Once the last bell had rung Stan had rushed out of his class, bursting into a sprint towards his locker. The lockers outside his Geometry class were always crowded if he got there too late, and he wanted to leave school as soon as possible. He would somehow have to get home, change into more comfortable attire, and find a ride to the hospital. He was going to ditch his detention; Mr. Absenence would have to understand.

Or in short, he was doomed. He heard the honking of a horn outside his house, but he ignored this and grasped his hair in frustration as if meaning to pull it right out of its roots. He shouted in fury, though his empty house gave no response save the slight echoes. Thoughts of Clyde filled his mind; how he would be the only one not to visit him. Some boyfriend he was. And though Stan reasoned that he was planning on breaking it off anyway he still knew that he had to be there. But with both his parents not there, especially since his father had to work overtime due to a large sediment analysis, he wouldn't be getting to the hospital any time soon.

Unless that horn honking outside his house actually meant anything. Still he ignored it, stomping up the stairs of his house. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed in into a small bin that contained his laundry. He stretched for a couple of seconds before tossing his jeans along with his shirt. He tiptoed his way to his closet and began ravaging it for clothing to wear. _It's just a hospital_, Stan reminded himself. _You're not dressing up for a special occasion..._ Lie. He was dressing up for Clyde... or Kyle... or both? He continued scanning his closet for a shirt, and when he had spotted a decent shirt he frowned; the shirt was folded up neatly at the back of his closet. Frustrated, he began to reach in the grasp the shirt. If it weren't for all the winter coats in the way...

"Nice view, Stan," said a voice. Stan froze at the voice, and after quickly snatching the shirt he straightened himself up. He didn't even want to think about how he would've looked just now, though the person who had just spoken could have probably explained it to him if he wanted to know. He felt himself turn read from the comment, and he hoped to God that it wasn't as noticeable from behind.

"How'd you get it...?" stammered Stan.

The person behind him chuckled. "Dude, you know that I know where your house key is." Stan heard the boy seat himself on his bed. "My mom's been honking her horn for ages now, so I decided to check and see what's taking you so long."

"Taking me so long?" repeated Stan.

"Yeah dude, we're taking you to the hospital. I know that you couldn't make it, so after we picked up Kenny I told my mom to pass by your house." Stan chuckled, realizing how stupid his dilemma seemed now. Why had he thought that he was doomed?

"Thanks dude," Stan said.

"Uh, Stan?"

"Yeah?"

"Put some pants on. And a shirt." Stan felt himself go even redder, if at all possible, and gave an unrecognizable nod, pulling his newly claimed shirt over his head. He continued to search for pants in his closet, though it was a lot easier of a task. Why did he have to have so many clothes in his closet? He made a mental note to give some to his mother later to donate them.

When Stan was properly attired he closed his closet, and met up with Kyle. The two left Stan's room, closing the door behind them, and made their way out of the house.

"Will you be needing an escort, monsieur?" Stan said in a French-like accent, offering his hand. Kyle smirked at the boy's action, and gladly took it.

"Merci," replied Kyle once they reached the base floor. Then, taking initiative, he rushed ahead to the door and opened it, repeating the same action for Stan. It was all fun and games, Stan thought, and after locking the door the two ran towards Mrs. Broflovski's car, piling into the back seat.

"Up here, Bubbie," said his mother, and Kyle complained. Stan could see her eyes snarling at Kenny, and Stan had to chuckle. She could not accept Kyle all she wanted for his orientation, but he knew that she would never deny his friendships... at least Stan hoped that. Eventually though Kyle complied, and a small gap remained between the raven boy and the blonde boy. Ike was not in the car, and Stan supposed that Mr. Broflovski was taking care of him at home.

The car ride was all too familiar to Stan, and he remembered how Kyle had been the one they were visiting last time. He remembered not being able to look at the boy when he had first seen him in the bed, and how Kenny had talked to him about it. Who would be comforting him this time around?

As the four entered the hospital Stan felt like he was going to barf. He hated hospitals; he had been here a few times more than he had wanted to. For a second he felt as if he was reliving a moment in his life, but as soon as they had passed the room Kyle had been in he felt that moment pass. It was only a few rooms down until they reached their destination, and as Mrs. Broflovski opened the door he felt his insides rise again.

It was different though. Seeing Clyde in the hospital bed wasn't the same as seeing Kyle in one. He still felt the urgent need to leave the room nonetheless, but it still wasn't as bad. He didn't feel hopeless, and though he knew the cause of the accident he didn't feel obligated to beat the living daylight out of his attacker, namely Cartman.

He felt a hand supportively patting him on the shoulder, and he had expected it to be Kenny like last time. It wasn't him, however, and when the boy asked if he would be all right he knew that this would be among the other things that wouldn't be the same as last time. He needed to start differentiating between past and present.

"I'll be fine," stated Stan, but Kyle only chuckled once more.

"I know you dude," said Kyle. "You won't be."

"I'm not kidding," said Stan, taking a deep breath.

"No you won't," said Kyle. "I know what happened at lunch; you almost blew up. I know what happened with Wendy; you joined a Goth group and went completely emo. You won't be fine."

"Then why did you ask me if you know the answer?" Stan muttered.

"I didn't mean for you to answer. I just wanted to lend you my support."

"Why, Kyle?" asked Stan, and he felt horrible letting out tears. "Why's it always people close to me that end up in the hospital? First Kenny... then you... then Clyde..."

"There are other people going through you grief," said Kyle. "You aren't the only one suffering."

"Cartman's doing this to me," said Stan. "He beat up you, and then Clyde..."

"Dude, he hates me more than you!" said Kyle. "Don't be like that. Seriously."

"But it seems so true, doesn't it?" sobbed Stan. "You know it's true..." Stan couldn't help himself any longer, and he knew that there was nothing now that would stop tears from flowing out of his eyes. He buried his face in his hands and sank to the floor, tears flowing like rivers being released from broken dams. He heard Kyle sink with him, and felt a comforting arm snake around his shoulders. Stan looked to his left and saw Kyle looking at his face caringly, and though he felt himself go red he no longer cared. The boy gave him a warming smile, and he used his left finger to wipe tears off his face.

"It's not true Stan," said Kyle. "Things will be okay. I promise. But Clyde needs you in there. He needs _us_ in there. So why don't we get back in there?" Stan nodded his head, wiped his tears away from his eyes, and stood up. Yet as he returned back to the room his inner self was smiling.

Maybe there were really were things that repeated itself.

- - - - - - - - - -

Clyde was in a much better condition than Kyle had been, and he was definitely able to respond. After giving him an update on the occurences at school they began talking about other things, topics that Stan knew nothing about, and others he was very knowledgeable in. The three boys were seated around Clyde in chairs, with Kenny on one side and Kyle and Stan on the other side. Kyle had been by Stan's side since he was still shaken up, and even after Stan had stopped crying he kept his arm around the boy's shoulder. Stan wasn't complaining, but at least Kenny nor Clyde seemed to mind.

"That debate's not happening anymore," said Kenny.

"Really?" asked Clyde.

"Yeah," said Stan. "She thinks it's too much of a controversial topic."

"No kidding," replied Kyle. "But hey, did you hear about Cartman?"

"Of course," said Stan bitterly. "How could I not?"

"No, no, not that," said Kyle. "I was talking about how he's dating Wendy?"

"WHAT?" yelled Stan, though as he said it he sank into his seat and looked rather embarrassed for his outburst. Wendy dating Cartman? Why would she settle for someone like... _her_? At least Token hadn't been as much of a jerk... but Cartman?

"It's really weird," continued Kyle, "though I guess you could say it was kinda expected. I mean, she was one of the first people to join his club-"

"WHAT?" exclaimed Stan a second time, and after glancing around the room he quieted down. "Wendy...?"

"It's okay dude," said Kenny. "We all knew you used to like her."

"Don't barf on us now," added Clyde, and the room burst into laughter. Stan felt himself turn red in embarrassment, but he said nothing and took it in. "Or on me, for that matter."

Crap... Stan forgot he wanted to break off with Clyde...

"Wendy was really adamant about the club," said Kyle. "It's weird; she's the last person I would've thought... she probably has some motive of her own... but Cartman?"

"I tell you," said Stan. "The world is after me!"

"Stan, the whole world isn't after you," said Kyle. "Seriously dude."

"Yeah," said Kenny.

"But-" Yet Stan was unable to finish his sentence. He heard footsteps down the hallway outside, and as he waited he could hear laughter as well. He half-expected to see Kenny and Ike bursting into the room, but he reminded himself that Kenny was in the room with them. He waited a few seconds longer, catching the attention of the other three.

"You okay dude?" said Kyle, finally taking his arm off Stan.

"Yeah, it's just that... someone's..." The laughter grew even louder, and as he saw shadows Stan held his breath and gulped, waiting for the person to appear through the doorway.

Clearly the past and present were not identical in nature. And as the source of the laughter became visible through the doorway of their room Stan felt as if he was at the gates of Hell itself.

It was _him._

* * *

Yes... ending! Review please! You'll make my day. 

I'm going to sit down and talk with that friend of mine tomorrow! So... maybe I'll be able to repair that friendship? Wish me luck, I guess. Or success. Either one.

Zakuyoe is out. Please review while he types up the next chapter.


	19. The Dreaming Complex

So... we've made it to chapter 19... I was three reviews short of that exactly 7 reviews per chapter on average goal... but that's cool, since in order to achieve that now I'll just need a total of 133 reviews... okay, I'm really dorky.

Clyde fans... you're out of the red zone... for now. I'd say that Stan and Kyle fans should be cautious over the next few chapters, though.

You guys are all amazing, and so I'm giving you a new chapter. My **fanart disclaimer** was made last chapter... check it out. And also, please expose this story to anyone you think might like this... it sounds like advertising, yes, but... I don't know. If you know any StanKyle fans that like this stuff pass the word on, or something.

That meeting with my friend didn't quite go as expected. But nevertheless I write again to vent out frustrations in a rational way, haha.

My current song addiction is "Mexico" by Jump (Little Children).

* * *

Sometimes people wish for pleasant things to occur in their life. Perhaps good fortune, happiness, or whatever else that makes them happy. However, normally the things they wish for are also the things that have the least likely chance of happening. Whether it's the probability of selecting the number 10 in a set of one-digit numbers or if it's finding the probability of finding an electron in the node of an atom, most wishes and desires almost never come true. 

Yet there are also malevolent things that people sometimes wish for. Normally this occurs only when people display a hatred for another person, such as a feeling toward a person who has betrayed someone, and this is also called ill wishing. Yet this is still wishing for things to occur in a person's life, and it is unfortunate that these wishes often come true more frequently than other wishes. Disasters tend to occur much more frequently than miracles, a person gets rejected more than they are loved back, and bombs tend to hit the ground more than free supplies. And in times such as these ill wishers steal all the available wishing stars from those who would use them for good causes.

So when Stan saw the boy enter the hospital room he was immediately categorized with the ill wishers. Roughly, half the population was male, and the other half female. So if there were six billion people living on earth, and three billion of these were male, then each male had a one-six billionth of a chance to walk through that door. It was proven then that bombs were clearly more frequently seen than supplies, since out of the three billion males that could have walked through that door it had been the one boy, the boy that was clearly not wanted there by the majority of the occupants in the room.

"What do you want?" said Stan coolly. The boy's eyes met Stan's own, and immediately their gazes entered an undeclared war. Stan refused to break the eye contact, and the other boy didn't seem willing to break either. It was only when Kyle and Kenny joined in with Stan's previous statement that the boy had to stop glaring at Stan to address the general group.

"I want to see if he's all right," he said.

"Of _course_ you do," said Kyle. "Of all people _you_ would care the most for his well-being."

"It's not that big of a deal guys," said Clyde, sitting up on his bed and straightening his posture. "He just wants to see if I'm feeling better. There's nothing wrong with a well-wisher, right?"

"Clyde, how can you not see the problem with this?" yelled Stan. "A murderer does not ask for forgiveness from his victim, nor does he appear at the funeral to see if he died peacefully! A child molester does not say sorry to the kid he's molested, nor does he check up to see if the child got AIDS! And so your attacker would _not_ come here just to ask for forgiveness, _nor_ would he see if you were all right!"

"Yeah!" piped in Kyle. "Why would he want to see if you were okay anyway? He beat the shit out of you, dude!"

"Whoa, whoa..." said the boy slowly. "I may have done some terrible things-"

"Indeed," muttered Stan.

"-But that doesn't mean that I can't feel any remorse for what I've done," finished the boy, not stopping despite Stan's interruption.

"He has a point," said Kenny.

"What?" yelled Stan and Kyle at once.

"Well think about it... we've all done some stupid things in the past. Okay, okay, the majority of these things were done by Cartman, but... Stan's put a gun to Kyle's head before... Stan crapped in the urinal once... and he turned Goth..."

"Jesus Christ, Kenny," snapped Stan. "I'm not the only one who's done anything bad!"

"Yeah, yeah, but to the point... the point is that we all did things in the past, and that it ended up being fine. I'm not sure why this is any different." Indeed, as Stan glared at his friend he knew that the blonde boy was right. It was similar to elementary school, where there were some things children learned that were never explained, and they were just told to accept these as true and not worry about why; it was perhaps also similar to a plane's ability to fly, and though people did not know how an airplane could fly they just accepted that it was able to. Stan did not want to know why Kenny was right, but somehow... he just knew he was.

"Fine, fine!" said Kyle, leaving Stan to be the only one questioning the boy's presence. "So then if you feel remorse, tell me what it is exactly that you're sorry about."

"Well... for attacking Clyde I guess," said the boy. "I mean, I'm not really sure where all that anger came from. I hate homosexuals, and I thought that joining ANTIGSA would be a peaceful way to express those thoughts. But I found out later that Cartman uses more... non-pacifist ways of doing this. He was feeding ideas into our minds, ideas of hatred, unacceptance, and intolerance. And so when Wendy told me that she found out that Clyde was a fa- homosexual... I was just so absorbed with what Cartman was saying that I... got carried away."

"Indeed," said Stan.

"That's cool," said Clyde, "I forgive you for fighting me... just know that there are other ways of expressing hatred... I mean, it's okay to have a disliking towards it, but... you don't have to show violence to show your hatred." Stan now looked at his other friend in confusion. Was Clyde right too? Was he right in being so forgiving? Was this similar to an airplane, and that the actual happenings should merely be accepted and not thought about? Stan could not establish this for himself; he personally saw Clyde as being too forgiving of the matter. Then again, maybe that would be a good thing when it came to breaking up with him...

...which Stan still had to do...

"I promise I won't express a hatred like that again," said the boy. He turned to his watch, and after registering the time he faced Clyde once more. "Well I have to go leave now. My mom's in the car waiting to drive me to Denver for dinner."

"Wow, Denver?" exclaimed Kenny. "Amazing! I wish I had that kind of money!" The boy nodded in reply, and as he turned to walk out the door he muttered some form of goodbye. Clyde was quick in returning the farewell, and as soon as he left Stan decided to speak up.

"So why was Token laughing before he got here?" he asked. The other three merely shrugged, and Stan supposed then that he was probably laughing about other things. After all, every occurrence around him didn't necessarily have to involve him.

- - - - - - - - - -

They spent the next few hours with Clyde in his room. A doctor had popped in sometime in their ignorance of time that Clyde was to stay the night just in case. Stan didn't see the reasoning behind this, and he was sure that almost every other hospital would rather push unnecessary patients from their rooms than to keep them longer for caution; then again their town was small, and even though the hospital covered a large radius of population it was still fairly empty.

It was around six thirty when Mrs. Broflovski came. She had left previously, though in the "heat" of their conversations no one had noticed her leave. Now she was attired in different clothing, and Ike accompanied her. Ike's lime green shirt was very prominent, and though it stood out very well it also added a decent amount of color to the room.

"Hey Ike," said Kenny, and when the boy replied with an imitation of an overflowing soda can the blonde boy burst into laughter. Clyde had a sense of confusion on his face, while Stan and Kyle both rolled their eyes. Admittedly it had been funny at the time, but it had been too long ago for either of the two to laugh about it now.

"Boys, Ike and I are going to buy dinner to bring back and eat here," said Mrs. Broflovski. "I was wondering if you boys would like to come?"

"Yeah, let's go!" exclaimed Kenny, who was clearly starving.

"One of us should stay with Clyde," said Kyle, frowning.

"And I'm definitely not the guy staying," interjected Kenny. Stan chuckled.

"Don't worry about it guys," said Clyde. "I don't mind being alone, you know. I mean, I am capable of staying by myself you know. I've been here all day without you guys."

"Nah it's cool, dude," said Stan. "Kenny, you and Kyle can go. I'll keep Clyde company."

"You sure?" asked Kyle, and when Stan had nodded he took Kenny's hand and led him out of the room. There was a small part of Stan that was envious at this action, but he was able to control his emotions. Oh how he wanted Kyle to hold his hand too...

...which led back to Clyde... Stan still needed to figure out how he was going to call this off. Should he do it now, or wait longer? In his heart Stan knew that it would be better to wait until later, as he didn't want to crush his heart right after the experience. Yet that envious part of him wanted Kyle, and if Stan wasn't using everything he had to hold himself back he was sure that that part of him would do all it took to get rid of Clyde and get Kyle.

After Mrs. Broflovski had left Stan returned to Clyde's side. He pulled up a chair beside the bed and rested his head on the mattress. He felt Clyde's hand ruffle his hair playfully, and Stan smiled. Yet as he enjoyed the boy's actions another thought entered his mind. What if Kyle didn't want to be with him anymore? Would he sacrifice this relationship only to be turned down? Should he simply settle with what he had now?

"So I take it your day went okay?" Clyde asked in a soft voice. Stan shook his head.

"No dude, of course not. You think I could concentrate while having you in the hospital? No way!"

Clyde smiled. "Well I hope I didn't make you fail any tests..." The lack of response from Stan definitely was not reassuring. "Well, did I?"

"I might've done poorly on that Geometry test," muttered Stan. "I think I did okay in everything else." Clyde nodded, and continued to playfully stroke Stan's hair. It felt nice, though Stan's want to break off with Clyde made each stroke a reason to change his mind. He shut his eyes tightly and swallowed down his thoughts.

"I'm sure you did fine," said Clyde, giving Stan's head a soft pat. Another silence occurred, and this time neither boy made a move to break it. It was a comforting silence, most unlike the awkward silences he continuously experienced with Kyle. It had been yet another reason to not break off with Clyde, and suddenly he felt that maybe it really was better this way.

But... Kyle! Stan still felt nervous around him. Though he had pretty much lost his habit of vomiting around people he liked, Stan knew that if he could he would definitely be vomiting all over Kyle. His thoughts were centric around him... they were really close friends... somehow Stan still felt that he wanted Kyle more, despite what he had now.

"Clyde...?"

"Yeah...?" But as the boy responded Stan couldn't say what he wanted to say. Somehow the opposing concept flooded his own reasons for breaking up with Clyde. The gentleness of his strokes, the comforting silences, feeling loved... it was as if Stan no longer wanted to let go to these feelings, and whatever reasoning he had for wanting Kyle instead left him entirely. He gulped again, and muttered softly to the other boy,

"It's good to see you're okay." And it had been left at that.

- - - - - - - - - -

The four had returned twenty minutes later with Chinese food, and together the six people ate their dinners in the hospital room. Stan didn't quite agree with eating "City Beef," but despite its name it didn't taste too bad, so he ate it without complaining. Kenny gulfed down the meal, as expected, and even finished up whatever Ike and Stan could not finish. Sometimes Stan felt sorry for him, having to live in such poverty. He had remembered the first time he went to Kenny's house, and how everyone had shared a waffle for dinner. He made a mental note to invite Kenny more often to his house for meals.

It wasn't long after when they were told to leave. As instructed Clyde stayed behind, and after a prolonged farewell to him Stan left the hospital with the others. Throughout the ride home Kyle and Kenny were holding hands, and he could clearly see Ms. Broflovski's disliking for the behavior. Stan wondered how she treated the matter at home, and whether Kyle was reprimanded for dating another guy.

"You haven't played with me in a while," said Ike, craning his head from the front seat to face Kenny.

"Yeah, I've been busy." Stan snickered at this comment, and even dared into faking a cough to hide a statement that went along the lines of "Busy with Kyle."

"I know!" said Ike, his eyes gleaming with childish joy. "Come play with me today! Mom's fine with that, isn't she?"

"No she is not," said their driver. "I don't want visitors right now, and your dad is still at his guy's night out."

"There goes that plan, Ike," said Kyle, squeezing Kenny's hand. "But he could come tomorrow, I'd bet."

"Yeah, you could!" added Ike. "Come on Kenny, please!"

"If it's okay with Mrs. Broflovski..." said Kenny softly. Naturally the little boy turned to his mother for her permission.

"Well..." began his mother, and Ike's pouting had done the trick. "All right. But he'd better be there to play with you and not with someone else."

"I could do both!" exclaimed Kenny, but after noticing her death glare he took back the comment.

"Yay!" said Ike; "Tomorrow Kenny's coming over!"

"How about Stan?" asked Kyle, catching Stan off guard. "Why can't we invite him too? I mean, he probably feels left out from these things..." Kenny frowned, but Stan began shaking his head furiously.

"No dude, I'm good," said Stan.

"I insist!" Kyle said. "We could all hang out, almost like old times... only with Ike to replace Cartman."

"He said he's good," said Kenny.

"But-"

"Drop it Kyle," said Kenny. Kyle frowned, looking first at Kenny, and then to Stan. Stan looked into the boy's eyes, and as soon as the boy's facial expression began to pout he was doomed for eternity.

"All right, all right, I'll go," said Stan. "If it's okay with your mom."

"Why of course dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Broflovski. "You are most always welcome!" Stan laughed silently, but he also happened to notice Kenny's foul expression. Stan had a pretty good idea what he was thinking... _why does he get her favor?_

"Well then it's settled," said Kyle, and as he finished the car pulled in front of Stan's house. The raven-haired boy exited from the vehicle and said his thanks.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Stan dismissed, turning away to walk to his house.

"Say hi to Sharon for me, dear," said Kyle's mother, and as he nodded the car drove away. Sighing, Stan trotted into his house, shut the door behind him, and hung his jacket. He said hello to his mother, both for himself and for Mrs. Broflovski, and then he went upstairs to his room, passing Shelly on the way up. He collapsed on his bed, stuffed a pillow over his face, and did his best to fall asleep. Yet interesting and puzzling concepts plagued his mind, and as his mind slipped into the realm of dreams he himself did not know what was false and what was the truth.

_"Why couldn't you love me?" he heard Wendy ask him. "I mean sure, I dumped you to date Token. But when I asked you to like me once more you chose not to. How could someone be so inconsiderate to others' feelings?"_

_"But you're dating Cartman!" Stan protested._

_"Only to get revenge on a selfish person like you!" Wendy snapped back. "I mean, I saw you that day at the movies. I saw you with Kenny and Kyle and Clyde, all of you being gay for each other. I dated Cartman to get revenge on you, Stanley Marsh! I was the one who reported Clyde gay so that someone would beat him up and ruin your life. And mark my words, Stan. Whoever you will love, ever, will have to deal with me. And **no one** fucks with Wendy Testaburger."_

_"But-" he heard himself start, but before he could say anything a new scene appeared before him. Wendy had disappeared entirely; this time he could see himself with his surroundings, though it didn't help much that he was seeing himself restrained to a wall with handcuffs. On a table before him was Clyde, also tied with restraints, though instead he was tied with ropes as opposed to handcuffs._

_"Stupid fag," he heard someone say, and similar to the typical action and adventure movie the villain appeared from the shadows: Cartman. "Fags don't deserve to live. They destroy the family unit, they influence others to be gay with them, and it's completely against religious morals. They deserve to die." Stan wanted to say something in Clyde's defense, but for some reason he was unable to make any noise. Though he couldn't see a frontal view of himself on the wall, he figured that he must've had a handkerchief stuffed in his mouth, or that his mouth must've been duct-taped together._

_Stan felt horrified as he watched Cartman place a cigarette butt on the boy's skin. He could almost feel tears roll down his cheeks as the boy cried out in pain, struggling to shift his position in an attempt to relieve some of the pain. His efforts were to no avail, and Cartman only placed the butt on a different location of the boy's body. Stan was now shaking, making his own attempts at being free. Unfortunately for him handcuffs were more durable than rope, and they could not be untied. He helplessly watched as Cartman threw the butt at the boy, and picked up a knife. He saw Clyde's eyes watch the blade carefully, whimpering fear._

_The scene in front of him randomly shifted once more, and he was never really able to see what happened after that. However, looking upon his new environment gave him a pretty decent idea of what happened in the end. Stan was dressed in black, and he was under an umbrella that Kyle was holding for him. They were outdoors this time, and Stan was happy he wasn't restrained, though he could not feel the difference. In front of them was a tombstone, and on it he read the inscription, _Clyde Donovan. May he rest in peace with the eternal father, without persecution_. "I'll help you cope," he heard Kyle say, who had placed an arm around his waist. Stan leaned into the boy's shoulder for comfort, but as soon as he had done so his environment changed once more._

_"I want you back, damnit!" yelled Wendy, even before Stan could fully register where they were. He saw Kyle beside him, holding his hand while looking defiantly at the black-haired girl._

_"Give it up," said Kyle. "You can't have him. Get over it." Stan looked at the area around him, and noted that they were on a bridge. Rather, he and Kyle were leaning against the rail, perhaps looking over it previously, and Wendy facing both of them._

_"Never!" she shrieked, and her hands went straight for Kyle's throat. Kyle's eyes widened with fear, and as Stan prepared to jump in to help he felt a strong pair of hands bind his own behind his back._

_"Can't help your fag friend now, can you?" said a male's voice, and Stan had noticed how he intentionally breathed hot breath on his neck as he spoke. Stan watched in fear as Wendy attempted to strangle Kyle, and every attempt Stan made was only restrained._

_"Let me go!" yelled Stan, struggling once more._

_"Oh, but you love this so much more," said his captor, breathing even more hot breath on his neck. Stan closed his eyelids for a split second, almost giving in to the feeling, However he quickly came to his senses, and tried struggling again. "You're going to find it hard to set yourself free. Especially..." His captor let himself trail off, but as Stan wondered what he meant to say the boy used physical actions to finish him off. He felt his captor's body pressed against him from behind, and Stan unwillingly let out a gasp. His captor only smirked more, and sent a warm mist of air on Stan's skin._

_Stan had given in._

_"Stop playing with him," said a strict voice, completely intruding Stan's thoughts. He recognized this voice immediately as Cartman's, and he opened his eyes immediately to see what was going._

_"We're done," said Wendy, and Cartman nodded. He made a head notion over his shoulder, and the three quickly left the scene, his unknown captor tossing him carelessly on the floor. Stan groaned at the impact, but he quickly got up and scrambled his way over to Kyle. He was clearly unconscious, and Stan could almost see marks along his neck. He placed a hand on the boy's chest, and did not feel it rise nor sink._

"YOU CAN'T BE DEAD!" Stan yelled, jolting right out of bed. He panted deeply, beads of sweat dripping from his hair onto his forehead. The digital clock in his room read three in the morning, and the bed sheets were all a complete mess. It had all been a dream; the deaths of his friends, the torture, the completely random scene changes... none of it had been real. Yet it had seemed so real... it all seemed possible of happening, especially the scenes involving Wendy. He remembered how she had dealt with Ms. Ellen, and he knew her capability of completely _destroying_ people she didn't like.

"It's not real," Stan convinced himself. Wendy couldn't possibly like him again. She wouldn't have dated Cartman if she did... and her reasoning for dating him was completely false, Stan had to convince himself.

"It couldn't be," said Stan. Cartman didn't smoke. There was no place in South Park that looked similar to that scene, where a person could be tied to a table, and another to the wall. There was no place.

"There's no possibility." Clyde was obviously still alive. The doctors had said he was fine; he didn't suffer any serious damage. He knew that Clyde would be healthy and okay, and attend school the following day.

"It can't be real." Yet even with these assurances, Stan felt scared. He didn't want such a terrible fate to befall someone. He didn't want to see all that suffering. He was scared of the world now, of Wendy, of Cartman. He was scared that his dream would become a reality.

So what was a dream then? Was it a form of unexpressed wish, a wish that people wanted to come true so that blessings would shower their life? Or was it a form of unexpressed dooming, a wish that asked for the complete destruction of another's life? Was it a new type of wish, or was it a kind of wish that was neither of these? And how would someone _explain_ a dream? Was dreaming necessarily a correct thing to do? Was it like the flight of an airplane, something that is assumed to happen naturally yet not explained. Was it similar to the math equations elementary kids learned, equations that were just correct, and an explanation not required? Were there reasons behind dreams, reasons why dreaming should be accepted? Was a possibility of a comforting dream a good enough prospect to still dream? Were there enough reasons to want to break off from the entire concept of dreaming as a whole? Were dreams something worth sacrificing? Were they childish things to experience? Were they visions that foretold the future? Did they dictate how someone should live their life?

Whatever it was, one thing was established. Stan was now afraid to _dream._

* * *

That's my rather lengthy chapter 19! I know you loved how much effort and planning I put into this chapter, so please review it! Reviews will be **_greatly appreciated_**, especially for this chapter. 

Also, check out my new KyleKenny fic, though it is a rather short first chapter. It's called **Blonde and Blue**. Like I said it is a rather short first chapter, but then again this story also had a rather short chapter as an introductory chapter. So read it, review it, and whatnot. Oh, and it was written for the fan that wanted me to write that pairing. You know who you are, and I hope you like it somewhat.

I'm done!

-Zakuyoe


	20. The Nightmare's Veracity

Wow... indeed I've come a long way. Thanks for all your support, once again, though I've gotten a lesser amount of reviews. But that's okay; I've gone too far to abandon this story now. But anyway...

**Really** bad chapter, not going to lie to you. It's extremely short, but I could really put what happens next after it because it doesn't quite go well. And because I want you to suffer, bwahaha.

I've been on a... "oneshot" tangent... as some might have noticed. They're just ways of me getting ideas. So read those oneshots, and comment them, and other good stuffs.

And now... review replies! Next is gonna be in chapter 25.

**Calamity kerin: **it's too bad you aren't a cocaine addict. Then I could give you more chapters to give you a much healthier addiction to have instead. And perhaps you'll get the predictions right now, as you'll see why eventually... And I don't know, you're the only one who's suggested _marrying_ my story. I might as well accept your offer... wow I sound like a parent... score. And Grease... haha

**Lilchicky004: **Well, later is better than never, I guess. The plot gets kinda weak here, but after a few chapters and it'll get interesting again. Just have to get a few things out of the way.

**bookyboo: **Great to see that it was one of your favorites. I pretty much loved it too. I'm not entirely sure why though, but if you haven't noticed yet I like connected the end to something that was mentioned in the chapter somwhere.

**Tackett: **Again, I kinda agreed that it was a nice chapter. This one may disappoint you, but if you can bear with me a bit longer I'll give you a very excellent chapter 22. Since it's super-awesome, as I've planned it. And thank you for caring about that friendship, but it never really worked out. So I've decided to move on...

**Venus-gurl: **Yeah, that episode most definitely confused the crap out of me. But yeah, the point in that was that Stan was trying to prove to Kenny that he wasn't the only one with fault. I didn't mean that as a whole, no one has faulted except him. The world does seem like the world is after Stan... because it's in his opinion. He can overexaggerate events, his views are biased, and he only mentions things that happen to him. It's because of the POV that makes the reader think that. If and when I do the Kyle counterpart to this story I'll show you how it doesn't really seem like the world's happenings revolve around Stan.

**Bloody Auzzie Bogan Mate: **Yeah, this chapter only strengthens your claim more, haha. But it's really short, and things will pick up! I promise you! Especially after Clyde d- well I shouldn't really be saying yet. ;)

**junkee:** more StanKyle angst, I know. Later on there will be a ton, especially after a specific event occurs. And of course, when Stan tries to get Kyle... which we all know should happen eventually.

**Natalie: **So uhm, I think I'm gonna rotate proofreading between you and my other one. Since like, early-screening rights need to be shared and all. But thanks for reading my story, despite how many nights it took you, haha.

**Aurifex: **Cliffhangers are awesome, though I shouldn't be putting too much. Actually, a lot of the story's plot has already been revealed... so I guess one of the few possible cliffhangers now is what God replied to Stan's letter (aka the epilogue...). Oh and hey, when you're done hitting me with that newspaper you think I can read it? I wanna do the crosswords. :)

**cjmarie:** you get proofreading rights for chapters 21 and 22 if you want to claim there. Otherwise I'm giving them to **Natalie**. But yeah, him was actually a specific person, just not Cartman (which seemed to be the common guess). And REVIEW! Is that thing still broken or something? And I'm scared about that baseball bat.

**Teklah:** yeah, that episode was GREAT. and funny. And I liked how it was being played at a movie theater. At least, that's what I remember seeing it as. Anyway, I did start that story for you. I'm brain-dead on ideas, and I only have 2 chapters up. You can give ideas if you want, as well as anyone else that reads this or the story.

**Spice of Life: **No, not Cartman. But I'm sure you figured that out already. But uhm, yeah. I haven't talked to my friend in about a week now. So it might go that way... I dunno. He didn't want to talk to me. And StanClyde is nothing compared to StanKyle, I have to agree. But right now we'll just have to wait...

**Ebil Pancake: **Haha, relationships are really confusing. I would know. And that Cartman comment is a really common wish. Read chapter 19, about wishes. haha...

**Asthenia56: **Double love is great. I mean seriously... love... twice! But uh, I can't guarantee that Clyde stuff. I mean... well I won't say. But I love your pen name because it reminds me of a Blink182 song I ABSOLUTELY LOVE! But yeah, haha. Thanks for the review.

**Mrpointyhorns:** Yeah, Bennifer is stupid. All 423423423 couples that happened to have that coupling melt. Melt... haha that word is in this chapter. but anyways. I just like STYLE because it sounds cool. I'd never say Styde or Clan or anything like that.

**Blackout12: **Yeah, twists and turns keep you hooked. heh heh.

And so as an excuse to not reply to the FIRST FLAME I RECEIVED FOR THIS STORY (cough cough) I will say that my review replies were only for chapters 17-19. Meaning, that that flame was given to chapter 1, and I "never saw it."

* * *

Some words in the English language are... interesting. Specifically phrases and idioms. Saying "having your head in the clouds" doesn't literally mean a head amongst the clouds; when a person melted in admiration for another person he or she did not really "melt" into a liquid substance. You write readings for others, and you read writings from them in return. 

Likewise, "hump day" was not a day where everyone screwed each other senseless. It simply indicated the middle of the week, Wednesday in particular, and how everything after this day went downwards into the safe altitude of the weekend.

Yet being on the "hump" was much like being on a mountain. It was the highest peak of the week, with scarce room to breathe, and the concept of survival plagued one's mind. A person was already looking forward to the descent, and how safe and care-free he or she could live. It would also be the hardest day to wake up on, since the pull of the weekend was disturing the academic mindset. This didn't prove to be a problem for Stan though, who had not fallen asleep after waking up from his nightmare. He rose from his bed and got ready after almost three hours in bed, and then he got ready for school.

It had appeared to be the typical morning. Nothing seemed out of place, and there weren't any more stories of Clyde being passed around. The topic had grown old, though Stan wondered if they would arise again once Clyde returned to school. Like almost every morning, Stan found his way to the spot underneath the stairs, where Kyle and Kenny were already waiting for him.

"Hey dudes," said Stan, and both greeted him in response.

"Is Clyde back yet?" asked Kyle, and Stan shrugged. He would see him in English, and though he could answer Kyle's question by that time the boy was also in his class; he wouldn't have to answer him at that point.

"He should be though," said Stan. "Actually, I think I'm gonna go look for him." He said farewell to the two and left. Their hangout was in a rather empty hallway, and Stan always laughed how every time he would walk out of that hallway it was like entering a different world. It was almost as if that hallway was only visible to the three of them, since almost everyond would walk by it not even noticing another way around to their next class.

Stan decided to check the cafeteria first. Because the school had such a small population it offered free breakfast for the students, which was really good news for Kenny. However Stan was looking for Clyde, and though Stan had no idea if the boy took advantage of the free meal he decided to check the cafeteria anyway. His biggest disadvantage was that there were many students there, and though their school wasn't very populated looking for one kid in about seventy-five students was still a cumbersome task.

Especially when Stan found out that he wasn't there.

He had spent his whole morning searching the school, in the restrooms, at the cafeteria, in the library, and in their first period; he came up empty-handed. Furthermore, the realization of a wasted morning was recognized when he wasn't even in their English class. Stan frowned at this concept, and wondered where he could possibly be. Of course, in all of Stan's worry he completely forgot about logical reasoning. First period was seven thirty in the morning, roughly, the hospital was reasonably far away, and Clyde wasn't obligated to be at school. So naturally, he wasn't there.

Stan pushed the whole ordeal from his mind as he sat through English that morning. The class was assigned a personal essay to write; they had finished with poetry and were moving on to analyzing narrative pieces. As Mr. Absenence gave the assignment Kyle complained on the improper manner of narrative writing, and how both past tense and first person had to be avoided. Stan didn't really mind, and spent the rest of his class period thinking of what to write about, instead of how to avoid the expletives like Kyle was.

It was his second period that made him worry the most. He had personal fitness, which was normally spent playing flag football or running laps. Today there was a substitute, and so instead of doing activities in the mild sun the class went into the gymnasium and played dodgeball.

"Stotch, left," said Coach Fagai. He was a tall character with short hair, and he once played on the football team for Colorado State. He was very built, and many of the girls thought him as very attractive... for his age. Stan watched his feet at the man began dividing the teams into two, and though Stan was a very athletic person he didn't really like playing games like dodgeball.

"Donovan, right... Testaburger, left... Tenorman, right... Marsh, left." Stan complied as he followed the coach's directions. He wasn't too thrilled as he joined Wendy, who seemed to be almost beaming at the prospect of having Stan on the same team as her.

"Oh my gosh you're on my team!" she said in a very ecstatic voice. "I mean, we're gonna win for sure!"

"Sure," said Stan.

"I've never won at one of these games before!"

"That's cool," replied Stan. "Hey listen, I wanted to congratulate you for... you know. Finding Cartman and stuff... like, dating him." He half-expected to hear a thank you, at least something to recognize his sincerity. Instead he got something completely different, something he wasn't expecting nor something he wanted to hear.

"I don't want to be with him." Stan could hear Coach Fagai's commanding voice in the backgroud listing more people, but he couldn't really hear it now. All he saw was Wendy, tears beginning to flow out of the corner of her eyes, and a saddened face coming upon her face. In a way Stan felt sad for her, but he still remembered how those years ago she had completely ruined his third-grade life by breaking up with him. He sighed and put the past aside to comfort her.

"Then why are you dating him?" asked Stan curiously. Wendy glared at him.

"I don't love Cartman, if that's what you're thinking. No, I'm dating him to get revenge on selfish people who left me broken-hearted..." At this Stan's pupils inflated dramatically; it was almost too real, and yet...

"You mean Token?" asked Stan, though he felt he already knew the answer. _If it were really becoming a reality, at least._

"No, you!" she exclaimed, only making Stan's situation even worse. "I know I dumped you for Token, but that one day I wanted you back..."

"I rejected you," finished Stan. "But remember, you did it first."

"I don't care!" shouted Wendy, and Stan found it surprising that Coach Fagai wasn't yet aware of their side conversation. "You'd rather have that... fag... than me? I saw the four of you at the movies. You. Kyle. Kenny. _Clyde_. All being fags around each other."

"Wendy, could you not use-" Stan began, but the girl cut him off.

"I can use whatever damn word I want," Wendy snapped. "I can't believe you'd rather have a fag than me. I mean seriously. But let me warn you, Stanley Marsh, that no one, **_no one_**, messes with Wendy Testaburger."

"Wendy-"

"Do you think that Clyde got beaten up by accident? Oh, hell no. Things like that just don't happen. Never. But what happened to him then? Well I-"

"Reported Clyde to ANTIGSA so that someone could beat him up and ruin my life," finished Stan, leaving Wendy open-mouthed. Stan began to crumble on the inside... was his dream coming true? Or was it just sheer coincidence? Whatever the case, Stan wasn't liking where this was headed...

"How did you know?" she said in shock. But before he could respond their coach blew the whistle, and balls began flying around the court. She gave him one last wink, and shouted; "Before I ruin your life enjoy this game of dodgeball! And definitely good luck!"

Completely bipolar, Stan argued. And he couldn't stop thinking about the truth behind his dream throughout the day. Several times Kyle and Kenny asked him if he was all right, and several times Stan lied. One part of his dream had come true. Stan hoped that it was only a fluke. If the rest of his nightmare was to come true... terrible things would happen. Clyde would die. _Kyle_ would die.

And he knew that with them dead, he would feel dead too.

* * *

Really short chapter. I think the next one will be rather short too, but then after that... chapter 22 is very _**BRUTAL**_. I don't know if I could stress that enough. So embrace yourselves while you can, and endulge in the beauty of reviewing... they make me happy. 

(off the record, 140 reviews makes an even 7 reviews per chapter average... haha).

Some stories to read of mine (and review):  
**Snowflakes  
I Watched  
Moonlight  
Blonde and Blue**

-zakuyoe


	21. Curiosity Killed the Cat

Welcome to chapter 21. Thank you for staying with me for twenty whole chapters... my appreciation goes to you all!

Anyway, I think I'll start off by saying that I should be studying for my AP US History exam tomorrow. But since I never study for history tests anyway, I decided to write this instead. OH, and I think you all deserve to know that I did NOT fail AP Chemistry last quarter, yessssss.

Reviews and such are most welcome. As always. Good feedback and constructive criticism is always good to receive.

**And believe it or not, I actually have started the Kyle POV of this story. It's entitled "Hope." Go check it out!**

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Stan always enjoyed solitude. It wasn't something he sought, but whenever the opportunity passed him he tended to relish and savor its presence. It offered a wonderful sense of tranquility, peace, and made any room a perfect cloister. It also provided a very quiet environment, which made excellent surroundings when he was trying to study, or even to reflect on life. 

He seemed to pass this opportunity quite often. He remembered how he had had solitude the day he wrote the letter to God, the letter he still hadn't gotten a response from. He remembered how reflective he had been, yet also ignorant. How that day he had barely known anything except Kyle's coming out. He hadn't known yet how Kyle had liked him, or how it would affect many of his friendships, or how he viewed his friend, or how he viewed homosexuality in general, or even how strong he would believe in these rights. He hadn't known any of that on that night.

After that he had experienced some other moments of solitude. But the mood had been different. Each time he was reflecting over a different matter in his life... he remembered how he had been reflecting how they reacted to Kyle's situation... he remembered how he had said it would be fine, and was proven wrong by Cartman's stupid club. He remembered how he planned to break his relationship with Clyde another time, and how he evaluated the bonds he had with his friends. There was more of a reflective mood in those situations, more analytical, and more decisive.

Still, Stan had to admit that it was better to ponder of these things in the serenity of his room at night than at school, where he could barely hear himself think. School wasn't Stan's favorite place to be, though he argued that if Cartman were not there it wouldn't be so bad. Stan remembered how it hadn't been too long ago when it had been the four of them... Kyle, Kenny, Cartman, and himself. It had been so unexpected though... how Cartman suddenly broke away from the group, all because he learned that Kyle wasn't heterosexual. Sure, Stan knew of the existing rivalry between the two, but... Cartman had completely turned his views. Stan was beginning to think Cartman began the club just because it went against Kyle, much like his hatred towards Jewish people.

But now that Cartman was becoming so engrossed with his club Stan was beginning to worry. Cartman was capable of doing so much; he once hated a kid so much that he chopped up his parents and fed them to the boy. So far though Cartman had only planned things like beating people up after school, but the fact that there was a lack of schemes worth enough to have been created by masterminds only made Stan worry more. It would be soon now, Stan was sure, that something horrid would spew from Cartman's intelligent mind, and it wasn't a pleasing thought.

And of course, Stan was considering these things under the conditions of solitude. He was alone in his room, though it was still rather early. He was alone, yes, because his father was at his office to work on the sediment analysis once more, and his mother was at Tom's Rhinoplasty, where she worked. So while Stan normally found solitude in the nighttime, where mostly everyone was asleep, today he could actually ponder about his life while enjoying warming sunlight. He was lying on his bed, which had been newly fitted with blue and red bed sheets after Kyle had slept over, and he was staring at the ceiling for endless amounts of seconds, unsure how long he would be looking upwards.

If there was one thing that was omitted when referring to the usages of solitude it was that it could also be used to think of absolutely nothing. And so after Stan was done reflecting about Cartman's future intentions he decided to do... well, nothing. Or at least, think of nothing. He began staring at the inconsistencies of the ceiling, noticing the irregular patterns of the ridges on the white surface. He let his eyes wander, stopping occasionally to immerse himself in the upside down mountains that the ceiling formed. It was a weird way of relaxation, so to say, and it was definitely effective.

Except, of course, when a telephone decides to ruin the moment.

Stan groaned in frustration as he pulled himself away from his trance-like state to grab the telephone. Normally he would just let it ring, but the absence of his parents forced him to break his usual habit. He turned the phone on and spoke softly into the receiver.

"Hello?" Stan said politely.

"Hey Stan," came the voice on the other hand. Stan could recognize that voice anywhere.

"Hey Kyle, what's up?"

"Oh, I was just checking up on that thing we were doing tonight." Ah, of course... the get-together they were going to have that night. The boys had planned it the day before, and so far those plans remained. Stan felt bad that Clyde would not go; he had still been at the hospital when the plans were made, and when Stan had told Clyde during Geometry (he had come back to school just a bit before lunch) about his plans Clyde hadn't bothered to include himself in them.

"Have fun with your friends," he said. "You can't be around me all the time." And so that was what had happened. Stan had forgotten about these plans though, and so it had been a good thing that Kyle had called or else Stan would've stood them up entirely.

"I'll need a ride though," Stan muttered as he looked around his room. "If I have a ride I'll be good to go." He walked over to his closet and began looking for something to wear.

"That's cool," said Kyle from the other side of the phone. "I'll ask my mom to get you. She's getting Kenny anyway." Stan rummaged through several shirts on hangers. _Relax,_ Stan told himself. _It's just a get-together at Kyle's house. Not a date._

"When's your mom gonna come here?" Stan asked. He heard Kyle call over to his mother, and Stan turned to the clock to get ready for the response.

"She says like six," said Kyle, and as Stan glanced at the clock Kyle added, "which is roughly in an hour."

"Sounds good," said Stan. He returned to his closet continue picking some clothes. He stumbled upon a red-striped shirt, and he threw it on his bed. "Well I'll see you then, dude."

"Later," said the boy before Stan hung up. He tossed the phone on his bed to join his shirt and began scavenging for a pair of pants. He hated how he cared so much about how he appeared to other people. Still, he found himself a good pair of jeans and tossed him with the rest of his possessions.

There would be no solitude needed to reflect upon what to wear that night.

- - - - - - - - - -

Mrs. Broflovski had arrived reasonably on time that night, and Stan found himself piling into a car with Kyle and Kenny. Per his mother's request Kyle took the front seat, while the other two took the back seat. Throughout the ride the radio was playing, and though Stan appreciated music to break the silence the music was very outdated. Stan could only sit in his seat and wait out the ride.

Ike was already waiting at the door when the group arrived. He immediately rushed to Kenny's side of the door, almost jumping up and down as he opened the door for the boy. Stan wasn't too sure why Ike was so enthusiastic of having Kenny over, but he guessed that Kenny didn't mind; after all, it gave Kenny an opportunity to be around Kyle more. Stan frowned; Kenny was already in close relations with the Broflovski family, and Ike would probably want him with Kyle more than he wanted Stan. Still, Stan knew that he would always have Mrs. Broflovski's support, who didn't seem to like Kenny very much.

"Kenny!" squeaked Ike as he led the blonde inside. Kenny smiled sheepishly at Kyle and shrugged as he passed through the door. Next to leave the car was Mrs. Broflovski, who seemed to be hustling into the house. Stan waited on Kyle before entering the house.

"Mom was cooking something before we left," informed Kyle. "I'm just gonna guess that she smelled something burning..." The two proceeded to enter the house, and the sounds of Ike could already be heard throughout the house. Kyle gave a sigh. "Ike's really fond of Kenny. I guess he started bonding with him back at the hospital. But, every conversation has been like... 'I miss Kenny!' and 'When's Kenny gonna come over again?' and 'Mom, can I invite Kenny?' It's like... I dunno, like he's more obsessed over him that I am."

"Well are you?" Stan challenged, and the question had stopped Kyle from walking. There were always some things that were meant to be avoided, and though some were printed on flamboyant, red signs, others were not so obvious. Stan hadn't known the full effect of the question when he had asked, but as he looked at the other boy now he realized something about him.

Kyle was, if not entirely then just a bit, doubtful.

The boy shook violently for a few seconds and then merely proceeded to continue walking. To Stan it seemed that Kyle wanted to avoid the subject, and that he was merely shaking it off. A part of Stan wanted to respect that, yet at the same time he was indeed curious... curious of the answer to the question that he has asked. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance that Kyle still wanted Stan...

_"What did Clyde have that I didn't...?" _The question he never answered.

_"Do you love Kenny, Kyle?"_ The question Kyle never answered. It was definitely a two-way street. Still, Stan was curious, and as Kyle was about to turn the hall Stan called out; "Well? Are you?"

"Am I what?" replied the boy.

"Are you obsessed with Kenny?"

"It's none of your business if I am," snapped Kyle, swiveling to face Stan. Even from that distance Stan could see the fireballs that replaced the green in his eyes. If Kyle had not been clear of his desire to not speak of the subject, he most certainly did now. "Even if I wasn't, what would that be to you, Stan? How about you? Are you obsessed with Clyde? Huh?"

"I'm not," Stan muttered, causing Kyle to stop in his rather riled up speech. "I'm... not."

"That's good to know," said Kyle. "Now Stan, _please_, if you don't mind-"

"I do mind," muttered Stan, becoming more and more daring as each word was spoken. "I really want to know. Do you really love Kenny, Kyle?" The boy hung his head, though even with this Stan could still the tears coming upon his cheek. Kyle raised an arm to wipe his soft skin, and when he looked back up at Stan the fireballs were no longer in his eyes, as if the tears had quenched the flames. Instead he saw confusion, despair, and something perhaps that Stan had been looking for: _hope._

"You asked me if I was obsessed with him," muttered Kyle. "Not if I loved him."

"Is there anyone you love more?" asked Stan, taking yet another step into a minefield.

"Stan, I... I can't answer these questions... I-"

"Why not?" interjected Stan. "You were the one who asked me what Clyde had that you didn't. Are you jealous or something, Kyle?"

"I'm NOT," protested Kyle, but Stan knew he was getting somewhere.

"Do you love Kenny?" Stan repeated once more, advancing towards the boy slowly.

"Stan-" Kyle began, shaking from head to toe.

"Do you?"

"STAN-"

"Do you?" Stan made one last step towards the boy, and without warning the red-haired boy took his left hand and made a half-circle swing into the area in front of him. Stan flinched as the backside of his hand met his cheek, and the boy could only hold on to his arm as if trying to undo the action. Kyle was now crying hysterically, while Stan was more shocked than anything else; then again, his boldness and persistence probably led him into deserving such an act.

"I'm so sorry," muttered Kyle, but before he could turn away Stan grabbed on to his shoulder.

"What Clyde has..." began Stan, still not letting go to Kyle's shoulder. "What Clyde has that you don't... Kyle, I don't even... know that answer..." Kyle refused to turn around to face Stan, and continued to have his back on him. Stan could still feel the boy shaking, as well as the stinging feeling on his face; Stan brought up his free hand to support the injury.

"So why him...?" Kyle whispered softly. "Why did you deny me and not him?"

"Kyle, I..." Stan did not expect the situation to be so revealing when he had initially acted bold and daring; the concept was something that generally came with such a situation, and the idea he missed it was due to his curiosity. "He just happened to ask second, Kyle... I mean, when you asked I didn't really know if I liked you... but when he asked, I felt bad turning down two people..."

"So you accepted him?" Kyle concluded, and Stan nodded. "So do you even love him then? Or was it something that you just felt obligated to do?"

"I..." Stan could hear the sounds of Ike in his room, and soon after followed Kenny's imitations of a woman that was unknown to Stan. "I don't... I've been trying to break up with him Kyle, I promise..."

"You promise?" repeated Kyle. "Why should you promise to me? How does that involve me?"

"Well..." began Stan, "...there's someone else I love more... someone that I only just realized I loved..." There was an awkward silence amongst the two, and it was only broken upstairs by Kenny imitating the woman's death. Stan let go of Kyle's shoulder, but the boy made no sign of movement. Instead, he took a deep breath and spoke.

"Stan, if it makes you feel any better I'm not obsessed with Kenny." This came as great news to Stan, who let a sigh of relief; however, it wouldn't remain to be this way for long. "But that doesn't mean I don't love him. Stan, I loved you. I still do. But you just... completely hurt me. And I took the hurt deep... normally I would run to you for comfort, but this time you had been the source of the pain. I ran to Kenny instead... and I found comfort in him. And he loves me. I love him. I don't want to have hurt from him just to be with you, the person who had originally caused that pain... I just couldn't do it." He stopped talking and turned around to face Stan. He did his best to look at the now hurt boy, but he couldn't put himself to making that direct eye contact. "I don't want to sound cruel, but... you lost your chance..."

Having the world crash down on you was a hard concept to grasp. In the figurative sense it was complex to comprehend, but in a more realistic sense it made sense. Standing underneath a waterfall and letting the water crash onto you was a similar concept, though the height of the water's drop would determine the actual force of the water. Dropping a book off a balcony produced a similar effect, and the more books you dropped the harsher the collision seemed. In a sense having the world crash down on you was a closely related concept. The more that fell on you, the more the situation hurt. The longer the pain was suspended in the air, the more it would hurt when it came back down. Simply put... it would hurt.

Stan nodded acceptingly to the rejection statement, and inside he began cursing his curiosity for influencing him to achieve such a result. It would normally be a time like this where solitude would most be needed, but in a situation like this, in the presence of Kyle and Ike and Kenny and Mrs. Broflovski, there was truly no place to be alone.

Especially when Mrs. Broflovski called for him immediately after talking with Kyle. He tried his best not to look sad about anything, and Kyle gave him an apologetic pat on the back before heading back upstairs. Stan approached the adult, who handed the phone to him.

"It's Clyde, dear," she said. "He says it's something important."

Fuck. _Just_ the person he had to talk to. Not.

"Hello?" Stan whispered into the telephone.

"Stan," came the voice of Clyde, and by the sound of his voice he was also scared of something, or maybe nervous. "I have to talk to you... in person. Meet... erm, no that's- erm, meet me at Stark's Pond... now?" Stan frowned on his side of the phone, but didn't want to think too much into it. His mind was occupied enough.

"I'll be there in a few," said Stan. He hung up the phone and returned it to Kyle's mother. "I have to go somewhere, Mrs. Broflovski. I gotta go."

"Don't you want to say bye to my buhbie first?" she asked, but Stan shook his head.

"Just tell him I left on an emergency," said Stan, and he quickly rushed out the door. Clyde had seemed scared, frightened, nervous, and something was telling Stan that it wasn't a good sign. His mind kept switching back and forth, first from Kyle, and back to Clyde, and then once more to Clyde. To Stan it was pathetic; even after being rejected he was still thinking of him. Stan hustled some more, picking up to an impossibly slow jog as he trekked through the snow.

Soon the sight of the pond came into view, and Stan began to replay the moments they all had there. It had been where Kyle had came out to them, and it was also where Kenny had informed him of his being with Kyle... it was so centric around the Jewish boy, and it drove him to the brink of insanity.

Stan looked around the pond, could not find the boy anywhere. Stan sighed in dismay, looking everywhere along the pond. He frowned, curious as to where Clyde he could be. He sat against the familiar tree stump, buried his hands into his hands, and sank his head into them. He had screwed up badly, and Stan could only wallow in self-blame, and to search for ways to repair the mistake he had made. It would be the first time that using this solitude to reflect on life would be a bad idea.

He heard footsteps behind him, and Stan hoped them to belong to Clyde so that he could talk to him, and perhaps do so in a quick fashion (so he could escape the bitter wrath of the cold), but he instead found someone else, someone he did not want to see. His faced opened in shock as the figure raised his hand, a smirk developing on his face. Stan's gaze followed the boy's hand, and though he saw what was in his hand he was rooted to the ground; he could not budge

The boy was holding an aluminum bat, and with one vertical swing at full force Stan was out cold.

* * *

Wow... and so that's that! Chapter 22 is brutal, as I've said... be prepared... in the meanwhile review! 


	22. Tears of Agony

Okay, so I'm pretty sure that a lot of you are ready to destroy me for what I did to Stan...? But I have several defenses on my part... firstly, everything will be explained when my parallel story, **HOPE**, gets to this portion of the story (since, we get to see what Kyle is thinking, as opposed to Stan). And second, when you look carefully, Kyle is merely using the same reasoning that Stan had made when he wanted to leave Clyde. Trust me it's there. And if you still get angry, PM me and I'll be glad to explain.

Clyde fans, be wary of this chapter.

Anyway, this is chapter 22, or basically one of the more... detailed, violent, and explicit chapters... I know some of you are excited (which scares me, because I'm not sure how happy I'd be to read stuff like this...). So here it is! Influenced by Yellowcard and the wonderful playing of piano (aka my profile song on myspace... check it out!).

Ideas in this chapter are partially credited to **Venus-gurl** and **cjmarie**, who helped me brainstorm.

* * *

_"Look who we have here..."_

_"Let go of me..."_

_"Why? It's fun seeing you struggle... not that I could undo sheer metal anyway..."_

_"You have a key... you can unlock me... please?"_ The room was very dim, and even as Stan did his best to squint in the very dark room he failed to see much. He wanted to see the people conversing, and as quiet as they were Stan could not recognize either voice. He felt half-conscious, and he blamed this state for the inefficiency of his senses.

_"No."_

_"Please?"_ Stan could sense the general direction of where this voice was coming from, yet he could still not see anything in the dim room. His eyes would get used to the darkness eventually, which was weird because the inability to become adjusted to dark was usually after being used to the presence of light, and here Stan had not been exposed to light when he woke up from his... state.

_"You're a fag. Why should I help you?"_ This voice was easier to recognize now that Stan was concentrating. Clearly that was Cartman. Stan feared for the worse, knowing what he was capable of... perhaps this would be the master plan he thought of? Deciding it was better if he interfered in an attempt to mess up the plan, he prepared to get up and snatch the keys and unlock the poor boy.

"Shit," Stan muttered very quietly under his breath. Metal cuffs were holding him back. Even more, by the way he could feel gravity pulling his feet away from his body (as opposed to towards the surface he was on), he deducted that he was restrained while chained to a wall. Cursing under his breath some more, the boy rested his head against the cold wall (which felt rather rough in contact).

_"Why are you doing this to me, Cartman?"_ said the voice. Stan's hearing sense was picking up, and after that statement it had all become clear... Clyde. He had been the one to call Stan over to the pond... had he been on the whole thing? _Of course not_, Stan told himself, _he wouldn't be begging to be released if he were_.

"No one," said Cartman. "No one. _No one_ messes with-"

"Leave him alone," Stan interjected, causing the conversation to halt. His vision was slowly getting better, yet the only thing he could really see was the standing figure (his large silhouette made him easy to identify) and a dim candle resting on a table.

"Stan is that you?" came the exasperated voice of Clyde, but Cartman merely responded for him.

"Don't get your hopes up. I still got the authoritah here. 'Sides, Stan's just as restrained as you are." Cartman walked over to where Stan was being caught, and now Stan could clearly make out the boy's facial features in the dark. "So you're awake now... I thought I knocked you out hard enough so you wouldn't be a problem..."

"I can take care of him," said a female voice, and Cartman nodded and left. Stan gulped as the girl appeared into his limited vision. _Wendy_. So she was in this too... "Stanley, Stanley... didn't I say that no one fucks with Wendy Testaburger?"

"I'm not fucking with you," Stan said simply. Wendy smirked.

"I could change that. In fact I'd _love_ that."

"Wendy!" Stan yelled, but Wendy only silenced him.

"Come on, Stan," said Wendy seductively. "How could you _not_ want this?" As she said this she cupped her breasts in her hands, giving them a little shake while looking at Stan.

"Not interested," said Stan blankly. He looked over her shoulder, where he could faintly see Cartman pacing in his steps. He could make out their conversation, and Cartman was clearly angry.

"Being gay is the gayest idea ever," said the larger boy. "Just stop being homosexual, goddamnit."

"It's not a choice," said Clyde. "I don't think it is. I mean... I can't just stop liking people and-"

"It's not a choice?" asked Cartman, and Clyde nodded. "Not a choice? NOT A CHOICE?"

"It's not."

"Stan, are you LISTENING to me?" yelled Wendy, slapping Stan out of Clyde's conversation and back into his own.

"Of course, of course..." Stan said distractedly.

"How can you not resist feminine curves?" Wendy asked. "Especially mine! Do you not love these?" Stan raised his eyebrows as the girl lifted her shirt to reveal her breasts. She half-expected him to drool, go mad, make an effort to touch them... anything. Instead Stan chose to just watch, showing as much disinterest as he could. She growled at him, making a noise that most other guys would go wild for. Stan only continued to stare at her blankly, not even caring.

"It's just body fat," he dismissed. Darkness wouldn't be able to conceal the fumes venting from the holes on her head.

"Just WHAT?" she repeated. "Stan, how could you be so cruel. A girl's breasts mean-"

"Nothing except for what bra size she needs to wear," Stan finished.

"What's wrong with you?" Wendy said, changing her game plan. She walked up to Stan, who began to feel uncomfortable now that the gap between them was closed in. "You like hurting people so much? Stan, Stan..." She moved in once more, her hand darting towards his legs. Her eyes looked into his, but his gaze did not meet hers; he was intent on seeing what was happening with Clyde. He made no response as Wendy pushed herself on him, and the feeling of her chest against his did not bother him as he tuned his ears to catch the other conversation.

"You fucking homo!" he could hear Cartman yell. "It's all a choice."

"No, it isn't. And even if it were, I wouldn't change for anyone." He heard Cartman sigh, and for some time he doesn't respond. Meanwhile, Wendy pushed herself on the raven-haired boy once more, receiving the same indifferent reaction she got earlier.

"Clyde, Clyde... life's all about decisions. See, here in my hand I-" but Stan did not hear the rest of the statement, for Wendy had finally succeeded in distracting him. In his distraction she began undoing his belt, opening the zipper to his jeans rather slowly.

"Wendy-"

"I can give you things he can't."

"Wendy, no!"

"Maybe this'll help you change your mind."

"Stop Wendy, please!" Stan was practically begging now, but Wendy only smirked wider and reached her intended target. He bit his lip as she continued her ministrations. "Wendy-" touching "-this isn't-" more touching "-changing my mind any." He did his best to remain quiet, not only to not make it seem he was getting something out of this, but also because he didn't want Clyde thinking anything bad of him.

"Of course," she replied, making circular motions. "You know you like it." Stan growled at her stubbornness. She wasn't going to listen to him. He was doomed. As he looked around he did the one thing he knew he could do in that situation; he spat at her. And with the girlish attitude she had, she freaked out, stopping her actions completely. Stan laughed at his minor victory, but his attention was quickly diverted by an acrid smell in the air.

Smoke.

Stan watched as he watched a small light leave from the table with the candle and toward a table, where Stan could now see Clyde strapped on with metal restraints. In Cartman's hand was a cigarette, and Stan assumed that it had been freshly lit with the candle flame. He coughed at the smell of it. When he had stopped, however, he felt a cold hand clamp itself over his mouth, and an even colder and stronger hand forced his jaw open and stuffed a foul tasting handkerchief inside. Stan mumbled as the strong hand wrapped a second scarf around the boy's mouth, preventing all noise from him

"Everything's about choices," said Cartman. "Did I have a choice to light this cigarette? Yes. Do I have a choice to smoke it? Yes. And do I have a choice in." Cartman let his voice trail off, and Stan watched in horror as the cigarette was lowered onto the boy. Wendy left Stan and reached for the candle, also hovering it over Clyde. The candle illuminated Clyde's face, and Stan began to cry softly as he watched Clyde's horrified face watch his captors hurt him. Wendy reached for the hem of the boy's shirt, pulling it up so that his stomach was revealed. Cartman put on a grin, and as he did so he thrust the burning end of the cigarette into the boy's side.

Stan's eyes grew wide as he let out a muffled shock. He could not bear to see Clyde go through this. He did his best to kick, scream... anything to get him off that wall and save him. His ears were filled with Clyde's cries as the smell of smoke filled his nostrils. He hated every second of what was happening, and as much as he didn't want to see him suffer Stan couldn't shut his eyes or peel them away from his torturing.

"Everyone has choices," Cartman reiterated, moving the butt to a different location on his stomach and pressing down once more. Clyde screamed once more, and Wendy moved over to stuff a handkerchief in his mouth. Muffled noises similar to Stan's soon replaced the yelps of pain; Wendy smirked, and as she purposely tilted the candle she was holding she allowed a few drops of candle wax to fall on the boy's cheek. "Everyone has choices, Clyde. Everybody has choices about everything.

"You had the choice to not be gay. You had the choice to not like Stan." As Cartman continued to list more and more things Stan watched Wendy return to his side, feeling uncomfortable having her with a candle inches away from him. "You had the choice to not be gay like that faggot Kyle. You had the choice to not like a guy that had feelings for someone else-"

"He's doing it for me," Wendy whispered into Stan's ear, causing shock to run through him. She spoke again, this time in a more singsong voice. "I told you Stan... don't fuck with Wendy Testaburger...!" Stan's eyes were wide as Cartman continued to place the cigarette end on Clyde's skin. Wendy? _Wendy_ was responsible for this? Then was she using his intelligence to do her bidding?

"Oh what's the matter Clyde?" teased Cartman, and Stan began wondering if he really knew Wendy's true motives. "Don't like that treatment anymore?" Wendy patted Stan on his arm softly before blowing out the light. Soon after the light from the cigarette disappeared again, leaving Stan to a completely dark room. No one made a noise save Clyde, who was trying to endure the lasting pain from the previous treatment. Stan waited in nervousness, unsure what would happen next, and if it would be him or Clyde.

He shivered at the sounds of Clyde's voice once more, which made gagging noises. Seconds later he heard his struggles for breath cease, followed by someone spitting. He heard Clyde's sounds of disgust, and Stan believed that someone had spat into his face. Soon he heard his gagging noises once more, and then as before they ceased. Stan was infuriated; he wanted to see what was happening, yet at the same time no one was making any noises, preventing Stan from having any clue what was happening.

He could hear Clyde panting heavily now, as if having just suffered from a loss of breath. He heard a male voice laugh at this, though Stan couldn't tell if it was Cartman. As Clyde continued to catch his breath he heard a shrill sound, similar to a samurai unsheathing his sword. Stan feared the worst at this point, and was almost at the edge of believing that death was inevitable. Still, he wished that he would give some of the pain to him instead... relieve Clyde... but maybe that was Cartman's intention, to pent him with guilt.

Clyde's cry exploded into the handkerchief, and even with this a loud cry filled the room. Stan could hear Cartman (this time he was sure) crack up as he heard Clyde's attempts at breaking free. He remained in darkness for several more minutes, and just as he was getting used to the darkness a candle was lit once more, completely screwing his vision. Normally a person would shield his eyes with his hands, but because his hands were restrained he was forced to squint instead.

"Life's all about choices," Cartman reiterated once more. "So now... you've been burned with a cigarette, choked to near unconsciousness, and you've been scarred with this blade." He brought a knife into the candlelight, earning a shocked mumble from Stan. "Please tell me that now you choose to change your mind. Don't be like that gay faggot Kyle..." The gag was removed from Clyde's mouth so he could speak though at first the only thing he could do was catch up on his breathing.

"I... choose to... not abandon... those I love..." he managed to say between breaths, infuriating Cartman more. The fat boy arose from a chair and threw a punch to the boy's side, causing him to recoil as much as the restraints would let him. He cringed in pain, yelling as loud as he could while the gags were not in place. Cartman stomped away furiously, while two other people went to a darker corner of the room. "Stan..." Clyde continued, catching the attention of the mentioned boy. "Through me... I might die... But it is by you... that I will... continue to live..." Stan replied by a muffled voice; he had wanted to say something along the lines of "Don't say that! You might still live!" or at least something to let him know he cared, that he was loved, even if at times Stan wanted to stop doing so. Instead the pathetic muffled response was all he got, and it saddened Stan.

Wendy returned with a bucket of water, and as she smiled she let loose its contents. Clyde gasped once again as the water drenched him, and Stan could tell, even without feeling it, that it had been as frigid as iced water. Clyde's teeth chattered, being extremely cold, and warmth was something he definitely did not get. Wendy smiled and left towards the corner, and Stan wished that the candle were a bit closer so he could see what they were doing there.

Cartman returned with several large batteries in his hands, as well as a couple of cords. Wendy also returned with another bucket of water, and as she dumped it onto the boy he yelped in pain; that bucket of water was the exact opposite of being cold. Cartman smiled, admiring the drenched boy in front of him, but in much different and more sadistic ways. He fiddled with something that Stan could not see from where he was, muttering under his breath. Wendy took a handkerchief and stuffed it back in his mouth. Stan's mind was slowly preparing for the worse... slowly...

Yet it still wouldn't cushion the shock that Stan was to receive. Cartman returned to his vision line with several cords, and at first Stan wondered what he could possibly do with those. Cartman had said the words, "it's all about choices, Clyde. The wrong ones you make come back in full _circuit_," and it took a good three seconds to figure out what he was referring to. The water... the cords... the _batteries_. It all made sense. Yet even as the cords were attached him, connecting him to a very complex circuit of wires that connected with every other electronic appliance that could possibly continue the circuit, and even as he jolted in his restrained position helplessly... Stan was not prepared. Cartman instructed the third person to remove the candlelight to save Stan the pain. He heard the boy's screaming resound in his head, something that would perhaps torture him forever.

"Leave him there," instructed Cartman. "Leave the boy to the circuit. And leave Stan on the wall to suffer." He heard footsteps run towards the door, and as the door swung open the night was revealed to him for the first time. He saw a boy walk through the door, and then the much bigger Cartman. He saw Wendy step into the doorframe and turn around to him.

"Bye Stan," she said. Not in the wishful and innocent way when she liked him and he liked her back; not in the dismissive way, when she had decided to ditch him for Token; not in the hurt and dejected way, when Stan had denied her request to get back to together; but in a evil, suspicious, and sadistic way. As the door shut he was left to live out Clyde's suffering. The noises of his yells of agony and the table's violent screeching filled his ears unwillingly, and it seemed like hours when they slowly began ceasing. Soon the only noise in the room that was left was the sounds of Stan's sobs.

A person normally crapped his pants before dying, but Stan didn't even need that to know that Clyde had died.

* * *

Wow. So I finished that... uhm, I took out about two paragraphs, to make that WendyStan scene... not as explicit. But yeah, that's enough harsh-angst-sadistic writing for tonight. You'd better review now, or else! lol. 

And I swear I'm going to work on **_Hope_** now.


	23. It was done for me, and now for you

**omg**. so for like the ultimate majority of you who were terrified by that last chapter... there isn't anything that frightening anymore. Of course, looking at the dream sequence will make you think that I'm lying, but trust me on this one. It does get downhill from here. Sorta.

Token and Cartman, believe it or not, will become major parts in this story. You'll see soon enough.

Thanks to the fourteen reviews for last chapter. Well appreciated.

I'm faced with a dilemma... how is my writing style? Should I write simpler, less complex? Or more like this? Or something else. The story's for you; tell me how I can improve and appeal to a larger audience... and stuff.

Advertisement? Read cjmarie's **Skeletons in the Cupboard Tend to Come Out**. Great story.

* * *

It didn't really matter to Stan anymore. He wasn't sure how long he remained on that wall. It had felt like days passed; Stan didn't even feel like he was exaggerating. It seemed like forever, regardless, and Stan could do nothing to pass any time. It also didn't help him much that the view wasn't changing at all; his eyes grew weary of the wooden walls, and there wasn't even an open window to watch the area outside. There was almost no noise, which made the situation even worse. Basically Stan was left to himself, and the painful feeling of unwanted boredom filled him. 

He wasn't sure if anyone was going to find him. Someone would know he was missing by now, but would anyone know where he was? Stan himself didn't even know that answer. He wasn't even sure if he was even in South Park... Stan wondered how Wendy and Cartman were getting by, and if they would ever be caught for what they did. He also wondered who the third person had been, the person who he had never figured out during the whole event. He sighed; if the two were caught most likely the third person would be too. Even with this he did not feel secure... ANTIGSA was going way too far, and if only Stan could get out of this position he would go do something about it.

But no matter how much he would think of his plans after being set free his mind was still stuck on what had happened. There was still a boy in front of him, on the table, and beyond dead. Stan was assuming that the electrical current was still running through him. Stan argued that it wasn't fair, how he could not do anything, nor could he say anything to him. Did Clyde even know that Stan truly loved him? Sure, he didn't seem like it all the time, especially how he had been debating between Kyle and Clyde. Clyde had asked him knowing that Stan liked Kyle at the time. He was okay with going out with Stan, even if the boy was still skeptical towards seeing Kyle and Kenny together. He knew all of this, and didn't mind. He had been forgiving, very forgiving, as Stan had noted. Clyde was the last person who deserved death, and Stan knew it. And now he felt extremely bad for how he viewed Clyde over the time period they were together.

Just as Stan began to try and take his mind off the horror and sadness that threatened to overwhelm him he began to hear noises. He could hear the faint sound of voices, most likely from outside. He felt like yelling to let them know that he was there, but a handkerchief was still inside his mouth, which made his mouth rather sore. He was also scared that it might've been Cartman and Wendy returning. He thought about what to do, and after a few minutes of thinking he decided that he would rather take that chance. His voice was rasp, yet with all his strength he yelled as hard as he can, and though the handkerchief cushioned most of the noise there was still enough sound to be heard. Stan paused in his yelling, and then after gathering more energy he yelled once more. He could now hear the voices getting louder, probably closer, and with one last struggle he yelled again. He felt like he was screaming his lungs out, and by the time he had finished the door widened. The blinding sunlight met his eyes, forcing him to shut them close.

"He's over here," muttered a foreign voice, and soon the sound of heavy boots entering a wooden floor followed after. Stan squinted through the brightness of the light, though he didn't really need to see what was happening to realize that someone - some people - had finally found him. He smiled gratefully to himself, allowing himself to close his eyes as the police officers did their best to get Stan out of there. The key to the lock was not found, and so Stan had to wait a bit longer as people tried to get him off.

The euphoria of being released sank in as a cloud, preventing all other factors from being seen. He was led out of the building, and he had been too excited in being able to walk that he had temporarily forgotten the more traumatizing things of his experience. Instead he was led away by a rather tall female officer, through a thick blanket of snow, and into a car.

"Watch your head," said the officer, and Stan complied. She shut the door after him, patting it tight as she walked to the other side and entered into the driver's seat. Stan shivered slightly, and the officer, who noted this, quickly did her best to start the engine and turn on the heater. "It's a good one hour drive from hear to South Park," she said slowly as she kept her eye on the road, "and so within that time you can ask me any question you need an answer for. I'll do my best to reply."

And it had been over the next hour, on the car ride home, through snow and foreign environments, that Stan learned of what had happened to him. He had somehow managed to land himself in a log cabin in the wilderness of Denver's outskirts, miles upon miles away from Stark's Pond. He had disappeared on Wednesday, and as Stan soon found out he had been gone for three whole days; he had been found on the fourth day, and though he had just been found he was sure that his parents would still make him go to church. The conversation had been both relieving and yet painful, and many times Stan had refused to answer the officer's questions. He was traumatized, and yet he wasn't; he could still carry on basic daily functions, yet a mere mention of what he had gone through seemed to pose a problem.

This problem, of course, would present itself quite frequently that day, and the next. For Stan's sake his parents did not bring him to church, and Stan knew that by doing this his parents had avoided chaos. The whole day he had locked himself in his room, trying his best to not think of the events. Yet as he immersed himself with popular internet sites his mind could not be diverted successfully.

_Clyde..._

He was gone. As much as Stan didn't want to admit it, he was... well, gone. As Stan had left the cabin he had not wanted to see him... yet whether he saw him didn't determine his mood. He would be saddened by Clyde's death regardless. No amount of happiness could truly shadow his grief, and Stan could not ignore that fact.

_Clyde..._

Yes, he was gone. Stan couldn't stop thinking about it. He knew he was dead, yet somehow he couldn't drop the matter. Sure, deaths by nature plagued the conscious of any given person, yet... to this magnitude Stan could not comprehend. As he had been released from the cabin, Stan did not seem to think of Clyde's death, yet it was now that he couldn't stop thinking of the matter. Stan opened browsers, attempted to type something, and merely closed them once more. He stared at the blank screen for a long time, unsure of what to do. He looked around at his walls, and almost everything he saw seemed to link back to the idea of Clyde's death...

_Clyde..._

Stan mumbled something under his breath, but it had been neither important nor audible. Dying seemed to be a new concept to Stan, though he had pondered over it many years ago when his grandfather had purposefully wanted to do the same thing. Yet even as the death of Clyde seemed so dooming Stan wondered if it really was an end. It was hard to think of different ways in viewing death, especially since grief overtakes the mind more than logic does. Yet Stan wanted to believe that it was not the end... that Clyde's life had not ended... that it was not over...

_...Through me, I might die... but it is by you that I will continue to live..._

"Stan?" He could hear the steps enter his room... he could hear a boy walking softly to him... yet Stan did not respond. He continued to watch the desktop of his computer, making no movement to even acknowledge Kyle's presence; there was still a part of him wishing that Clyde would say hello. "Stan, it's me, Kyle."

Silence.

"Come on Stan, say something," continued Kyle. "I mean, I just want to know if you're okay... I was worried about you, dude. Like... you just left my house on Wednesday night... without saying anything to me. I know I treated you harsh that day, and I wanted to apologize for that. But you had us all worried... me, Ike, and Kenny. Even worse when you didn't show up the next day!

"I wanted to apologize if there's something I did that you haven't forgiven me for yet. I'm sure that whatever it is that happened is bothering you right now, and so if I did anything wrong I want to say I'm sorry. I don't want you to hate me..."

Silence. Stan could hear Kyle clear his throat, and he could almost sense the boy fidgeting in nervousness. Still Stan did not move or speak, and still Kyle made unnecessary noises to break the silence. For several minutes it had been like this, and after a few minutes Kyle had called quits; one of the two would have to stop playing his game eventually.

_I... choose to... not abandon... those I love... _And as he heard Kyle's footsteps slowly creak their way out his door, Clyde's words began resounding in his brain. It was Clyde this, Clyde that... and even though Stan wished that the boy were still there he still could not deny the care that others who loved him offered. He sighed, turned to the departing boy, and parted his lips to make a very low noise. It wasn't quite comprehensible, yet it had been enough to catch the boy's attention. Kyle smiled and stopped walking away.

"So you're responsive, at least?" Kyle said with a smile. Stan got up from his computer chair and laughed, walking up to the boy and embracing him slightly.

"It's been a rough time..." muttered Stan, and Kyle only embraced him tighter.

"You'll live through it," said Kyle. "Whatever happened I'm sure things can return to the way they were-"

"No Kyle-" Stan interjected, but Kyle merely continued.

"I've learned from you that things do get better, and I'm-"

"No Kyle, it won't."

Silence. Kyle stepped backward from their embrace, looking at Stan curiously. It appeared to Stan that no one had yet told him what happened to Clyde, and Stan was in a huge internal debate as to if he should be the first to do so. There was that feeling of obligation that Stan should be the one to do it, yet at the same time Stan wasn't sure if he was mentally capable of doing it. The cigarette, the knife, the volts of electricity... it still scarred him...

"Stan?" Kyle's worried voice once more.

"It'll never be the same again." Stan's emotionless response. "...You can't raise people from the dead."

The conversation was left at that.

- - - - - - - - - -

Kyle had slept over that night to comfort Stan. Stan claimed that he did not need it, yet both of his parents knew better. Mrs. Marsh had called Kyle's mother to bring clothes and other toiletries, and within thirty minutes his mother had come. As Stan had suspected she began to inquire about his disappearance, and she felt partially responsible for the occurrence because she had been the one to let him go. Stan assured her that it was his own decision and that she was not responsible for anything; she let the matter go and returned home.

It had been like the night that Kyle had invited himself over. Darkness surrounded the two boys as they lay across Stan's bed so that Stan was on one end and Kyle on the other. A silence enveloped them, above the large comforter that already accomplished this task. There wasn't much to say, nor was there much to do. Frankly put, the only thing that Kyle could really say was what Stan had missed in school, and even then he could only update him in English and French (though the latter a little less accurately).

_Clyde..._ No, Kyle. He was talking to Kyle, not Clyde. Stan knew there would be a time to grieve for him... there would be a time where he could sit down and let go... but it couldn't be now. _Why grieve...? He's not gone..._

"Are you ever going to tell me?" Kyle asked in the darkness. _Not helping, Kyle..._

"Probably," muttered Stan. "I don't think I can... really..."

"I get it," said Kyle. Another silence occurred, something that Stan knew he would have to get used to again, and then; "you're the only one who knows about it..."

"I'll give in eventually," muttered Stan. "Don't worry about it..." Revenge filled Stan's head as he thought of Wendy and Cartman... how were they faring through this? Obviously they had come back Thursday for school... naturally they knew the whole time where he was while everyone else was clueless as to where to come into the overdue rescue. How could Wendy have been so harsh... to have gone so far as to kill anyone who was with Stan...? And who was Cartman to agree to such cruel punishment... technically, if Stan remembered correctly, the eighth amendment protected a being from cruel and unusual punishment. And killing Clyde definitely qualified as cruel...

_But he's not dead... he lives through you..._

"I'm sure you will," said Kyle. "I just glad you're back, safe and sound." And as Kyle finished the night off with this sentence Stan could only shut his eyes in pain once more. He was always the one to suffer, as he had argued so many times before... Stan hated how things were beginning to play out, and even though he was grateful he was unharmed Stan could not understand why he was able to live the experience harm-free, while Clyde took all the suffering and died. It would be a thought he would ponder over for the rest of that night, and it would also be the reason he would not sleep.

It was well past four in the morning when Stan, sitting in fright at the edge of his bed with a pillow tight in his embrace, realized the answer. Clyde had received the torture because he loved Stan, and because he had received it back. This was known to Stan. But why had Clyde endured all that suffering, continuing to hold back, and not give in? Why was he being similar to Giles Corey in _The Crucible_, who withstood torture until death in order to benefit those close to him?

Clyde wasn't ready to let down those he loved. And now, Stan was not yet ready to give up for the people he loved... those people around him... and the people he held in his heart.

* * *

Chapter 23. Omg finished. That took too long to write. But now I'm going back to **Hope** (the parallel story to this, in Kyle's POV), until I write at least three chapters of that. So... be sure to check me out over there too. In the meanwhile though review this chapter, PM me for questions, and all that great stuff. 

Oh, and help me with that dilemma I had, mentioned in the author's notes at the beginning of the chapter.


	24. Metanoia

Welcome to chapter 24. I can't believe I'm almost at the ending... sort of. Anyway, this is a pretty flashback-y chapter... so for this all italics indicate flashbacks and memories... this chapter only.

I want to write this chapter the best way I can... so tell me how I do, please?

I wanted this to come out on November 9th, the two month anniversary of the story. Butttt... I really felt like posting it now, haha. So pretend that today is the two month anniversary, two days early. :)

Here's the question. Should I finish this, and then return to Hope? Or should I keep Hope updated before finishing this one off? Because, well, there would be no point in reading Hope if you knew the ending already... unless you're just curious to hear it from Kyle's perspective. Let me know when you review. For this reason **lurkers better review**!!! Because whether or not I continue this story immediately is in the fate of the reviews... no review, no representation!

I was thinking of doing review replies next chapter, but... whoa dude! I've receieved 33 reviews since I last did this, so I might as well do it now! ...And prepare for this to take a while...

**Kyle Broflovski's One and Only:** Thank you, though I do apologize for the nightmares. And an A+; what an honor!

**CmS:** Thanks for picking up on my story... lol. Well, I hope you enjoy what you read, though I'm sure many of these other reviewers and readers will agree that some of the things I wrote about were... well, disturbing.

**Amy:** (see end of chapter).

**DarkGryph: **Thank you. And that is impressive; I'd finish reading a story like this in like... five sittings. Haha. This chapter is a little more confusing, so tell me if you can follow it still.

**Tackett: **Why thank you. I love this chapter, which says a lot since I barely love my own work. But it's good to see that you like it!

**Aurifex:** Ah no I killed you! I hope you revive so that you can read this chapter though! And I'm addicted to your story; keep it up!

**Lilchicky004:** Aw thanks. I was trying to aim for that feeling, and I'm glad to hear that you think I did that well.

**-ChocolateThunder-: **Haha, thank you!

**cjmarie: **Ah, thank you for your correction! And argh, today in English we were talking about the impact of his words "More Weight." Honestly, he's my favorite character.

**Bloody Auzzie Bogan Mate:** Yesh, yesh, things seem harsh. But in a bit things should clear up.

**Blackout12**: Easy lead is always great. Of course, I still think that a reflective tone is nice.

**Spice of Life:** Teehee... at first I thought you wrote "You writing Style is just perfect." Lol. But that's a definite compliment for me, once I realized what you meant to say. And I'm intelligent! Yippee, I wish my GPA would reflect that now, haha.

**dorkiss:** First of all, welcome to the South Park fandom! Yeah these chapters are somewhat depressing.. but it will lighten up soon.

**kazami: **Thank you. Though I'm sorry that it's making you sad... lol it seems to be the ubiquitous answer.

**Le-PrePo-Liebe: **Why thank you!

**Natalie: **Thanks... now I have issues... lol so do you though... you know it, IB kids always have issues... like why they sign up to begin with.

**Erradhadh:** A rare jewel among... something else to add to my list of odd reviews, lmao. Though the emotionally heart-felt bit was touching to read.

**Raidoni: **thanks for your review! And sorry for my updates... they're starting to stretch as we get closer to exams... in a month.

**Raven0526: **Wow, that's definitely a compliment! Wow... that review has taken my breath away too, lol.

**Kailey:** Meh... sorry, I'm making everyone depressed with this, unfortunately.

**TweekFan: **...upbeat chapters to come soon... haha

**Teklah:** Haven't reviewed in a while, but I think I told you the info you wanted, yes? If not look at the review you sent for chapter 20 and ask me.

**bookyboo:** Haha... well... here's what happens next...

I think I'm good to go! And I hope you are too. Because... do I see some StanKyle goodness here? Just slightly, perhaps. Major kudos to **cjmarie** for helping me end this long chapter, lmao.

* * *

Black. 

It was everywhere, ubiquitous, unavoidable. It was ever-present in everything he saw, in the people's dresses and suits, in the coffin that was rested solemnly at the front of the congregation, and the cars that surrounded that location. It was an emotionless color, yet filled with emotion, grief, mourning, sorrow, and death. It brought memories, recollecting happy times spent with those deceased, only to cruelly bring reality back into play. It symbolized dark thoughts, depression, yet it was easy to take comfort in it, knowing that things would always sink down into the depths of pitch-black darkness.

Black did not symbolize peace, love, harmony, and purity. It did not accurately convey the emotions wanted; the people were filled with grief and mourning, yet that was not the effect that was wanted. Memories were wanted, but they were not to be let go. It symbolized the wrong concepts, stressed the wrong symbols, and consumed the hearts that needed comfort in more enlightening things.

It was not what Stan wanted.

He wanted it to have been a service of happiness. Not in a way that signified joy in his death, but Stan wanted the funeral to celebrate the sacrifice that he made. Of course, there weren't many that actually knew the full magnitude of the importance of Clyde's death, especially to Stan. There were few that did, but regardless Stan wanted the service to be not as depressing. He wanted good's resilience to shine clearly throughout the darkness of the dark times.

He stood in the front row of the church, eyes transfixed upon the closed coffin. There had been too much physical damage to the boy to have the coffin open throughout the service. No one close to him really saw the full extent of the damage; not even Stan had known what the damage looked like, since it had happened in such dim circumstances. His parents suppurated to his right, shaken and distressed that they could not even say a last goodbye. Stan empathized, and he knew that he was feeling more saddened that his parents were; while the parents could not say goodbye they did not have the chance, whereas Stan had the chance but could not.

To Stan's left was Kyle, letting out his fair share of tears. It didn't matter to him that he was celebrating a Catholic funeral, as long as he celebrated the funeral of one of his close friends. The two weeks that had passed since his death had been hard for Stan, and even Kyle, who was only slightly involved. It had been a hard time for Stan, trying to deal with both school and the trauma that came with watching someone die. Kyle did all he could to help his friend, bringing him to Ms. Sagisak's office, and once to Mr. Mackey's office. Stan had been offered several times the option of staying at home until he was mentally ready to go back to school, but each time he had denied it. Kyle assured Ms. Sagisak that he would help Stan whenever he could, and to that he held his word.

"_Why are you doing this?_" Stan had remembered saying once as Kyle sat on his bed, books sprawled across the bed, and ready to help Stan with his Geometry homework.

"_You're my friend, dude,_" said Kyle in return, flipping Stan's book until he landed on the right page. "That's what friends do... they help each other out."

"B_ut wouldn't you rather be with Kenny?_" Stan asked curiously. "I mean, wouldn't he upset that you're hanging around with me more than him?" Kyle gave an annoyed sigh, flicking a pencil at the boy.

"_Just because I'm dating someone doesn't mean that I'm limited to only that person,_" Kyle said while controlling his temper; it had not been the first time that Stan made this claim. "_You need my presence more than he does, anyway. Just relax, and focus on more important things... like doing your math homework._" Focus... it was something that Stan had seemed to take a liking of over the course of his grief. Focus on his homework... focus on what the teacher was saying... focus on washing the dishes properly...

...Focus on the funeral service...

Stan brought his attention back to the priest, who was saying several prayers for Clyde. Stan began to wonder if prayers truly helped the deceased... He understood the reasoning behind praying for the sick, how they needed prayer to help their health. But what good was it to pray over those that were dead? Their health could not be improved. Their fate could not be changed. Stan knew that if praying for the dead would do something to make them alive again, he would be praying like there would be no tomorrow. He still prayed for Clyde out of respect, but in his mind he saw no point. There was no changing the fact that Clyde was dead.

The congregation replied and prayed with the priest with a melancholy tone. They were oblivious, knew nothing of Clyde's death, knowing only that he was no longer able to breath the same air they did. For a long time only Stan truly knew how Clyde had died. He was the only one who knew every detail, the only one who heard every scream of agony, the only one who saw Cartman press the cigarette onto his skin... the only one who knew he suffered. No one knew the damage Cartman and Wendy caused, nor did they even suspect the two of such atrocity. For the longest time Stan had kept the information to himself, traumatized too heavily to be able to recount the events to another pair of ears in order to deliver justice.

Naturally, Kyle was the first and only person to know of the events. Kyle hadn't planned on finding out what had happened, knowing that Stan could not be forced to recount what had happened. Still, Stan forced himself to admit, knowing that if he bottled it up inside of him for so long it would drive him insane.

"_Kyle, can I talk to you?_" That was how it had started, Stan approaching his friend as the school day had ended. Kyle looked at Kenny, as if asking permission, and when the golden-haired boy nodded Kyle stood up from the bench they were sitting on, and followed Stan to another bench. "_I don't think I can take this much longer, dude._"

"_Take what much longer?_" Kyle asked, not yet aware of the subject Stan wanted to talk about.

"_Take holding this in,_" reiterated Stan. "_I still wish that Clyde were... you know... not dead. But at the same time I know that if I don't do something he'll never get the justice he deserves. If he can suffer through pain to do what is right... so must I..._"

"_Are you sure, Stan?_" Kyle asked. "_I don't want you to have to relive moments you may not want to yet... but you know I'm here for you dude..._" And so Stan had proceeded to tell Kyle, in detail, every little thing that had happened during his experience. He illustrated with words the pain he felt, his helplessness, Clyde's suffering, Wendy's ministrations, and Clyde's last words. Kyle nodded in sympathy, letting Stan cry on his shoulder when he needed it, giving Stan an open ear, and offering his support.

Much like he was now. During the moments of the funeral service in which they congregation was sitting, Stan found it very hard to remain tearless. His mother had spoken in front of them, reading off a soaked piece of yellow paper, and describing her son's best traits with as much accuracy and as much self-control as she could. As a human, a griever, and a mother, she released her feelings in the form of tears.

Clyde's friends, supporters, teachers, and even the people who barely knew him comforted her with their tears Boxes of provided Kleenexes became empty as they were used over and over again to satisfy the needs of the congregation. Stan found himself leaning on Kyle's shoulder quite frequently. He stained Kyle's suit with tears, and though he felt bad Kyle assured him between his own sobs that he did not mind. Mrs. Donovan's speech only made the situation worse, for Stan and every other listener, and inside Stan knew that what she said was nothing compared to what he was capable of saying.

Mr. Donovan took his turn in speaking about his son, and after him his other aunts and uncles took their turns. Repetition did not seem to stop anyone from giving their support towards the Donovan family, shedding tears upon tears. Some had gotten on their knees to pray for the family, while others leaned over to rest a comforting arm on Clyde's parents. It was clear to Stan that though black engulfed the congregation there was still no sense of evil present.

Gallons of tears later, the church portion of the funeral service had ended. Many heads bowed lowly as four strong men carried the coffin away through the brazen doors and into a waiting hearse. The Donovan family was the next to walk down the aisle, heads hung, hands clamped respectfully, and walking gradually towards the doors. Stan, Kyle, and Kenny were next to follow, and after that the rest of the congregation followed. By Mrs. Donovan's request the three boys rode with the family in a special car, and for the whole ride no one made a single noise.

The cemetery, Clyde's new home, had a very lively scene. Not lively as in animated, but... alive. Trees grew healthy, flowers blossomed in pretty colors, birds chirped merrily... nothing was dead on the outside. It was just as Stan had wanted; a place that would reflect a new beginning, a joyful respect towards the sacrifice that Clyde had made. A place without black, but color. A home that showed peace, harmony, tranquility, and all the traits that Clyde deserved.

Stan watched as the coffin was lowered into a hole previously dug out. The priest revealed a small bottle from his pocket, a bottle of holy water, and began sprinkling some onto the coffin. Sobs could still be heard throughout the congregation that remained to watch the burial, the portion that did not go straight to the reception. Stan watched as people stepped forward to toss a flower over the coffin. Mrs. Donovan's sobbing could be heard prominently now, her husband comfortingly placing an arm around her while shedding his own tears. Stan found himself clinging to Kyle's arm tightly, and when he had realized this and attempted to let go, he found Kyle returning the favor, tightening against his own arm.

"Here lies Clyde Donovan," said the priest. "May he rest in peace, and may he live in eternal life..." The congregation agreed with his statement, giving him a loud 'amen' in response as the hole was refilled with dirt. Soon the people began leaving, one by one, as they made their way to the reception. Stan remained still, staring at the tombstone made for Clyde, and reading it over and over, as if a form of release.

CLYDE DONOVAN.

"...We should get going..." he heard Kenny say in the background. Stan wasn't sure if he wanted to attend the reception. It would be too cheerful for him, perhaps, something that he wasn't ready for. He was standing with the boy who lightened his days, who made him feel special, who cared for him... the boy he loved. He wasn't sure if he wanted to leave him just yet...

"...Come on, Stan," he heard Kyle say.

Stan shook his head. "No."

"...Dude, we're gonna miss the reception, and the car is waiting for us!" said Kyle. "Besides, it's going to rain soon."

"I don't care..." muttered Stan, his eyes still transfixed upon the tombstone. He heard Kyle mutter things to Kenny, and as he heard the other boy leave he felt Kyle come closer to him.

"Stan, we have to get going. Really."

"I don't want to leave him, Kyle..." Stan muttered. "I don't want to say goodbye." Stan did not watch Kyle as he began struggling for words. There really wasn't much to say about the situation; only emotions could properly convey what was happening now. Clyde was in the ground, six feet below, and no chance of coming back. But did Stan really want to accept that? He couldn't even turn away from his tombstone, for crying out loud.

When had he been this passionate towards Clyde? He could only remember how he kept trying to decide how to break the relationship he had with Clyde... Did the death of Clyde Donovan suddenly mark a change in how Stan Marsh viewed life?

_I believe you don't know what you've got until you've said goodbye... _

He had used the same song to describe his feelings toward Kyle. Yet so suddenly it felt as if it was now more fitting when used here... they were in two completely different contexts... and Stan knew the difference. Before he had been self-centric, using the quote to merely state a want that he knew was out of his range.

Stan remembered perfectly what this desire had been. He remembered how he initially heard of Kyle's success with Kenny, and how the quote had applied in that situation. _"I hope this doesn't bother you,"_ he remembered Kenny saying.

"_Why should it bother me?_" Stan had asked. He had been so foolish then, not willing to admit the feelings he held. Did he even know how he felt then, or had the realization come afterwards? Stan was no longer sure, but one fact remained: looking at it now, Stan felt hurt.

"_Well... you were acting all worried about Kyle at first, kind of like over-obsessing. As if you cared for him._" _As if._ Was that a statement that Stan really needed to question?

"_Kenny, how many times do I have to tell you? Just because I care for a friend doesn't mean I like him!_" Bullshit, Stan knew. He knew that jealously had been the end product, that in the end he was only denying what he wanted. It was his wanting, the one thing that set the boundaries on reality and desire. He had had the chance to have Kyle, but that had only been then that he realized he had it, once he already lost it to Kenny...

That was then. Now, the song better described an actuality, a concrete idea, a construct... something that could no longer be changed. Like Clyde's death

"You aren't leaving him, Stan," said Kyle. "As long as you continue to care for him, I'm sure he'll live within you. He's never gone." Stan sighed, letting Clyde's previous words sink in with Kyle's.

_...Through me, I might die... but it is by you that I will continue to live... _

_...You aren't leaving him, Stan..._ But Stan knew better... turning away from that tombstone would go against it completely. He could easily nullify Kyle's argument. The finality of Clyde's death would always make him aware of his absence. Both of them were wrong. There was no "living after death" concepts involved... were there? Stan knew the absolute feeling of death and pain, and though it felt so much easier to agree with the two he knew he could not. It wasn't logical.

And suddenly Stan felt the overwhelming urge to go back in time. He wanted to correct everything, and not just about Clyde, but he wanted to correct his own life. He wanted to go back to Stark's pond, knowing that he would be taken away, and possibly save Clyde. He wanted to go back to the day that Clyde and Kyle were beaten up, wanted to be there with them and help defend them. Most of all, he wanted to go back to the day when Stan had found out that Kyle liked him, and to instead say yes instead of no, preventing the majority of the recent occurrences altogether...

"_Maybe it means that I care for you in a completely different way,_" Stan had said that day. That had been fine; Stan was okay with that. But it was what he said back to Kyle after that he wanted to change... the sole reason he wanted to go back in time to begin with...

"_You mean...?_"

"_Yeah. Maybe I care for you as my best friend. Not as an acquaintance. Not as a boy with similar interests. Not as a boyfriend like Kenny keeps suggesting..._" _Not as a boyfriend... _That single line Stan wanted to change. He wondered if Kyle was even thinking about him at all, how different things might be. Then again... Kyle was happy with Kenny...

But Stan did know. He did know how Kyle felt about Stan, though it wasn't too great. He remembered it crystal clear in his head, as if it had merely been said a few hours before. _A wave of uncontrollable sensations, aroused by concealed emotions, rediscovered by unexpected happenings, settled with misleading agreements, sparked once more with terrifying banter, falsely assured that the severity of the matter was minor, feeling the drench of an emotional flood levies were to restrain, suffering never-ending pain; these were the occurrences of my life as of yet, plaguing every waking moment of my life, concentrating remaining focus on matters I wish not to ponder, dealing issues I wished I could not cry over, and I have at last found my cure._

Kyle was happy with Kenny... and the cure had not been Stan.

"Stan?" Kyle asked, bring Stan back into the present world. Stan sighed heavily; there was no going around it, it seemed. He felt raindrops fall from the sky, and as he cringed in the icy touch of the rain he felt Kyle place a comforting arm around Stan's waist, holding an umbrella over the two with the other. But even though the warmth and comfort Kyle offered Stan couldn't help feeling like something was wrong... as if he had lived this moment before.

The dream.

The shock and realization came crashing down on Stan as he remembered the nightmare he had experienced not too long ago. He remembered the first part of the dream had come true, and he had recognized this. But Clyde's death... Stan had been so traumatized and so preoccupied that he hadn't realized that he had "forseen" his death, almost accurately. And now, the tombstone scene... Though the inscription on the tombstone had been different, everything else had been the same. Leaning into Kyle for comfort... Kyle's arm around his waist... umbrella over their heads...

Stan sighed. He knew he was holding up both Kenny and Kyle. But he was torn between two people, as a teddy bear being shared with two siblings. He wanted to go with Kyle and Kenny, yet the prospect of leaving Clyde still seemed incredulous.

"_Go with them,_" said a voice, and Stan's eyes opened with such fear he did not know what to do. It sounded so much like Clyde's yet... "_Don't abandon those you love... You have not abandoned me... I will always be here..._" Stan collapsed into Kyle's embrace. He didn't know what he had just felt, but it felt uplifting, encouraging... and it definitely took a lot out of Stan.

He was crying. Stan could tell; he could feel the salty tears running down his cheek. The image of Clyde's tombstone flared in his mind, but it seemed different. Had Clyde just talked to him?

"I... I..." stuttered Stan, and Kyle only held the boy closer. He felt Kyle's arm find its way up to his shoulders, stroking his shoulders gently. Each stroke drove Stan insane, and each stroke made Stan miss the feeling of Clyde stroking Stan's hair, how soft each one had been...

Stan glared at the tombstone once more. How could it be so hard to pull away from a simple stone with Clyde's name embossed in it? It seemed so... painful... But all pain was endured for good reason, right? Clyde had endured pain for Stan to grow as a better person, as harsh as the pain had been. Stan was suffering now, but he realized that he would need to endure the pain to make things better once more.

He collected himself as best he could and removed himself from Kyle's grasp. He felt wind blow across his cheek, a soft, breezy, and welcoming gust of wind. _He was not yet ready to give up for the people he loved... those people around him... and the people he held in his heart. _Stan knew he had to do this... he had to turn away, or else he would never be able to live life, move on, and do what he had to do.

He glanced at Kyle, took a deep breath, and slowly turned his back to the grave.

His gaze met Kenny's, who smiled at Stan's accomplishment. He could see Kyle smiling too, from the corner of his eye. And then... he smiled. He could feel himself smiling, meaningfully, and perhaps the first time in so long. He had laughed once, yes, with Kyle, but there hadn't been a true reason. Now, he had a reason to smile, a reason to feel happy. He took a couple of steps away from the grave, at first slow, and soon his pace quickening. He felt Kyle behind him, continuing to hold the umbrella over Stan's head.

"The car's waiting for us," Kenny muttered. Stan nodded, joining the boys on the walk back. He knew now what Kenny and Kyle were trying to say... there really was no goodbye. _By you that I will continue to live..._ For the past few weeks Stan's opinion on the matter had kept changing; at times he chose to believe it and at times (usually the more difficult times) he chose not to. But... for some reason it made sense now. He wasn't going to leave Clyde. He lived through him... He could visit the cemetary all he wanted. He wasn't going to leave Kyle... he cared about him too much, and Kyle would always be there for Stan anyway.

Stan wasn't leaving anyone. He left the cemetary feeling relieved, emancipated from the plagues and troubles that had previously consumed his mind since Clyde's death. He watched from the car as the cemetary gates slowly rolled out of sight, disappearing from his sight altogether.

And somehow, it didn't seem to bother him anymore.

* * *

Chapter 24... something I'm actually proud of. I know, I know... there are a lot of positive endings, kinda to balance out that brutal chapter. But enjoy them, because chapter... 29 and on... don't have as cheery endings. 

Anyway, go review this chapter, do that stuff I asked up at the beginning. And just to answer that anonymous review that seemed somewhat insulting... yes, I am a guy... so if you're bugged out just by this, suck it up and deal... because, if the reason you like or hate this is dependent on the gender of the person writing it... that's pretty sad. And I'm sorry I'm not the typical slash fangirl you're all used to seeing.

-Zakuyoe


	25. Oh

Oh wow. Sorry for making you all wait so long... hrm, I must've lost track of time...

Actually, I've been hopping around fanfictionnet, dropping a few stories here and there. If any of you read Digimon, I've got an action story going on there. Also, in South Park, I have another StanKyle fic, which will actually lead into KyleTweek! Please read it. It's my next major project after the Faith-Hope arc I'm doing, and I'll be there (in case you wonder where I'll disappear to after this).

Author profile updated with (current - halted - abandoned) projects. Go check it out to see your favorite story's progress!

Anyway, I'm really happy that this story is doing so well. All my other stories are like... freaking horrible in reviews. I'm going to be jumping between South Park and Digimon, though I'll have you know my true heart rests with south Park. Yay.

* * *

Things were beginning to clear up, so it seemed. Stan found it easier to concentrate in school once more, and the pain of Clyde's death was starting to fade away. It was still there, both he and anyone around him could tell. But it wasn't something that hindered him from living his life anymore, and that had been a good result. 

Another good effect had been that Cartman was being pulled out of class more often. Every day during Stan's American Government class, a green slip of paper would always get Cartman out of class and leave for the main office. Even though Stan wasn't sure what it was about, he still held hope in his heart that it would regard the horrid crime he had committed. He hadn't yet told anyone about what had happened, and Stan was hoping that the week or two of Clyde's body in autopsy would reveal the occurrences without needing his help.

Stan, Kyle, and Kenny began to hang out more often. It had originally been to comfort Stan, even after the funeral. But as days passed it seemed that hanging out wasn't such a bad idea. They would spend the first few hours doing homework, and then after they would turn their attention to anything they could possibly think of.

That day, the first Tuesday after the funeral, the three were at Stan's house. Bodies spread along the floor, books piled in a circle, and pencils scattered everywhere, the three boys were set on doing homework. They had been working on their personal essays that Mr. Absenence had assigned weeks before, an assignment that they had all procrastinated on, even Kyle. Their teacher despised typed work, and prefered everything written, which gave them the ability to work on the assignment together.

"What _do_ I believe in?" Kenny asked as he tapped his pencil on the paper. It was a rather odd concept; there were many things that Stan said he could believe in, but when it came to actually writing an essay about it he found it difficult.

"I'm gonna right about human equality," said Kyle. "About how Jewish kids aren't any different that Catholic kids and stuff. It'll probably suck though."

"At least you have something to write about," Stan said, staring at his own blank paper. "I'm pretty much screwed."

"You're not alone," said Kenny. Then, after throwing his pencil against the floor, he added, "man, I hate this essay!"

"Just write..." muttered Kyle, beginning to stain his paper with lead marks. "Just choose something you strongly support."

"Like how wonderfuly my boyfriend is?" Kenny whispered, grinning madly. Kyle smiled, punching the boy lightly on the arm.

"Of course, though I'm not sure how Cartman would like that,"Kyle said playfully. Stan merely stared from where he was, reflecting the same smile. It wasn't that he wasn't happy for them, just... it seemed weird. No, Kyle being with Kenny wasn't weird. He had seen it for almost three weeks, at the least, and it really didn't matter to him. It was just... that _feeling_. That desire that wished it were_ him_.

"You never know," said Kenny. "I could give my lovely serenade while he's down at the office again," Kenny said, causing Kyle to go red.

"Serenade?" Kyle asked disbelieving. "I'd like to see you try presenting an essay in a sing-song manner."

"Oh I will," said Kenny. He smiled, and almost immediately Kyle followed suit. It was seemingly contagious, though Stan didn't seem to catch on. The whole ordeal was torturous, tantalizing almost... It had been a good thing that Kenny and Kyle had stopped, because even though Stan felt like he wouldn't do anything it was quite possible that Stan would explode.

"So, back to the essay," Stan said, redirecting the focus to their homework. For the next while the three wrote their hands off. Lead began collecting on the side of their hands, fingers began to hurt, and brains stopped working. Stan found a hard time writing his essay; he knew what he wanted to write about, he knew what he was going to say, but... being able to write it would be the problem.

"Done!" exclaimed Kenny, dropping his pencil down. Both boys gaped at him incredulously as he stood up and stretched. "I think I'm going to go upstairs and get something to eat. Stan, is that fine?"

"Of course," muttered Stan, "but how...?" But before Stan could finish the boy bounded up the stairs. Stan was partially glad that his parents weren't home from work yet; he'd hate to see his mother's face when she saw Kenny's face dug into their leftovers.

"I hope he really didn't write his about me," said Kyle, frowning. He craned his neck over to see what was written on his page. "Nope, of course not."

"Wouldn't have mattered," muttered Stan quietly. "He's not even in our class."

"Oh," Kyle said. "I didn't even think about that." Stan only nodded, looking down on his paper. He had only written half a page, seeming absolutely pathetic compared to Kyle's. Kyle seemed to notice his inefficiency at writing, and peered over to see what he was writing about. Panicking, Stan withdrew his paper, holding it to his chest.

"Don't read it," Stan muttered, cheeks turning red.

"Aw, come on," Kyle protested, but Stan kept his face straight.

He shook his head violently. "No, dude!"

"At least let me help," said Kyle.

"Nah dude, you can't help without looking at it, and I don't want you to." Kyle hung his head in defeat. Smiling, Stan returned his paper back to its formal position, deciding to keep it face down. "Oh no," Stan added, seeing the new pout that Kyle had taken up.

"I'll show you mine!" said Kyle, freely handing his paper. Stan shook his head defiantly, and after that Kyle had just given up. There was a moment of silence, before... "Is Kenny still up there?"

"Yeah," said Stan. "I hope he's not eating my whole kitchen. Sure, he doesn't eat. But that doesn't mean we don't either..." Stan stood up, raising his arms in the air to stretch. Kyle followed suit, and soon both boys were on their feet.

The idea had suddenly occurred to him that he was with Kyle alone, in his basement. Stan laughed at the thought; it had sounded quite dirty, and, like the teenage boy he was, there were many things he could do right now. Kenny was only upstairs, but...

"Stan?" asked Kyle, and Stan was brought back to reality. _Nah..._

"Let's go see what's taking him so long," said Stan, but as he went Kyle did not move. Stan stopped in his motion, not even taking the first steps up the stairs. It felt awkward enough going up the stairs with someone watching him; he didn't want to feel watched.

"Stan?" The voice of uncertainty. Stan gulped.

"Yeah?"

"Remember what I said to you... that day... before you...?" Stuttering. Uneasiness. Those feelings seemed to jump between the two a lot.

"Of course," Stan said, biting his lip. Somehow, just somehow... everything seemed to turn back to this...

"Well... I wanted to say sorry for that," said Kyle. Stan looked at him curiously, not knowing what he meant; Kyle gave Stan a clearer answer when he inquired. "I didn't mean to sound harsh and stuff..."

"Oh," was all Stan could say. He backed upward into the stairs, ascending the first step. "So everything else..."

"I still mean," said Kyle. "Just... not in such a harsh way..."

"Oh," said Stan again. And then, realizing that it was old news and that nothing could be done to change it, he smiled. "Let's go find Kenny."

"Stan..." Kyle muttered, but Stan stopped him.

"Let's go," Stan repeated, and he pulled Kyle upward.

- - - - - - - - - -

Unlike Stan's predictions, however, Kenny had actually been found sitting in Stan's room, using the Internet. Stan was under the assumption that Kenny didn't have the Internet, though he had never actually tried figuring out for himself. He was on a sports website, checking scores for some particular game. Stan and Kyle merely say down on Stan's bed, bored out of their minds.

"You finished?" Kenny asked, and both boys shook their heads.

"We wanted to see what you were doing," said Kyle. "You were taking too long, and Stan thought you were eating out his kitchen."

"Come on Kyle," Kenny muttered, and Stan could almost see a smile curl up at the corners of his lips. "I'm dating you. I wouldn't eat anything out without your permission."

"Sick, dude!" Stan exclaimed automatically, and the three laughed. Stan enjoyed these moments - the three friends laughing and enjoying themselves - and even though he wished he could've had these moments with Clyde he knew that there was no changing that now.

"What game?" asked Kyle, peering over Kenny's shoulder.

"Cows," replied Kenny. "Still undefeated."

"That's pretty good," said Stan, also peering over his shoulder. "Hey, notice Craig and Token haven't been playing the last few games?"

"Weird," muttered Kyle. "Aren't they one of the better players? Why'd coach sit them out?"

"Probably missed practice," said Stan. He sighed, returning to his bed. "That's pretty weird too."

"I dunno," concluded Kenny, closing the window. He got up from his seat, neatly tucking in Stan's chair. "We should go to the movies."

"Huh?" Stan and Kyle said in unison.

"You know..." Kenny reiterated slowly. "...Like that place where teenagers watch movies?"

"I dunno," said Kyle. "Maybe." He thought about it for a few seconds, and then he spoke again. "On second thought, I have to finish a government outline..."

"We didn't have one," Stan said quickly, but he was merely shot down by Kyle.

"Advanced Placement," Kyle replied. Kenny sighed.

"You have to go though!" Stan said, joining Kenny's side. "If you don't go then Kenny and I will go alone..."

"...And you have no idea what we may be doing..." Kenny added, even adding a wink. This seemed to catch Kyle's attention, and the boy's attention span immediately sprang back up.

"No way dude!" Kyle said, eyes widening. "Now I'm definitely going!" Stan doubled in laughter, and Kenny gave him a pat on the back. Stan hadn't been sure how he had been able to pull that off, especially since Kenny wasn't the one on his radar. But then... there might have been ulterior motives... though Stan questioned how someone could have ulterior motives without knowing about it.

"And we're getting there... how?" asked Kyle. Kenny shrugged.

"Walk?" he suggested, and with grumbling from the two they both agreed. Stan went over to his closet to change his clothes, since he was still in his school clothes. After changing into shorts and a t-shirt he turned around, looking for their expressions.

Kyle had definitely been staring at him. Stan raised his eyebrow curiously, and as soon as Kyle realized Stan had caught him he hung his head and turned a dark red.

"Erm..." Kenny muttered, looking towards the boy. "Kyle, what-"

"Sorry," Kyle whispered, clearly red from embarrassment.

"Kyle-"

"Don't worry about it Kenny," said Stan, but Kenny didn't listen to him.

"Kyle, what's-?"

"Nothing," said Kyle, and suddenly he drew him into an embrace. Stan felt his insides churning again, though he knew that it clearly would not be a good time to mention that feeling. Inside he felt bad; Kenny obviously suspected something, and it had all been because Stan caught Kyle looking at him. It's not like he was trying to ruin Kyle's relationship... or was it the whole "ulterior motives without knowing" concept?

"Kyle, all I was gonna ask you was what movie you wanted to watch..." Kenny explained slowly. Oops.

"Oh," was all Kyle could say. Kyle's expression quickly changed, laughing at his own stupidity. "Well then, I don't know. We'll find out when we get there!"

"Lead the way!" Stan added playfully, and he started a march. Kenny laughed, and he joined in, marching out of Stan's room. Stan continued to march, though he was waiting upon Kyle. Kyle looked at Stan for several seconds, with worry on his face, and though he proceeded he did not march.

"Down the stairs!" Kenny said, and the three made their way down the stairs. They walked out the door, and as Stan turned to lock it he felt a tapping on his shoulder.

"What I wanted to say earlier..." Kyle whispered. Not this again...

"Look," said Stan, raising both his hands up. "I don't really mind about what you-"

"I just wanted to say..." interjected Kyle, "...that you really haven't wasted your chance..."

"Oh." And as Kyle picked up a march toward Kenny Stan was left to ponder on the front porch. He still had a chance... but what was Kyle implying? That he hoped for Stan to try and win his heart? Or that Kyle didn't mind if Stan still wanted to hopelessly try?

One thing was for sure. As he rejoined the others he began formulating things in his head. And in those plans, he was aware of the ulterior motives behind what he would do.

* * *

Uh, wow... chapter 25? It's getting harder to write. **YES** I mean less motivated. BUT WE'RE ALMOST THERE! So... keep the reviews up, give me some helpful pointers, tell me reasons why I should continue, etc. The old stuff.

And get my brain working!

-Zakuyoe.

PS: My author profile... check it out...


	26. Blush

Yay. So apparently the fact that I felt unmotivated... is motivating me to write? I dunno either, but doesn't matter. I'm writing, so... yay!

And to bookyboo and cjmarie who suggested mobs and fangirls and fanboys hunting me down for not continuing... very motivating, haha. As much as I want to meet my readers... death by riot isn't high on my priorities list.

And yes... there will be a lot more... StanKyle goodness for a while... if not, till the very end.

I present to you chapter 26. Keep in mind... after this, there's chapters 27, 28, 29, and 30... and then we've reached the end... omg so excited! I hope you are. I definitely am.

Grudge 3. I wrote this chapter before the actual movie came out. Just in case Grudge 3 exists... this is mainly for those people who search for old stories, though. Obviously Grudge 2 just came out, so...

Thanks to **cjmarie** for movie-brainstorming with me.

Author's note at end. Kinda important question. For a writer, Zakuyoe writer, at least. Please reply and help me decide.

* * *

What Stan could formulate in his mind wasn't put to action. 

It was a lot easier for Stan to think of things in his head. The circumstances and stipulations were a lot less severe and realistic in his mind. He could see himself doing things with ease, though inaccurately simulating the emotions and actions of the other boys. The plans that Stan had made in his mind to do while at the movie theater that night had ulterior motives, yes, but they were not backed up with enough courage and determination to initiate them.

Reality was simply too unrealistic.

As the two boys walked to the movie theater, Stan found it hard to not think about Kyle. He was confusing him, much like how he had done before. If Kyle had not said the statement he had, then Stan would probably not have found walking to the theater to be so hard to do. And it had been this confusion, the confusion that Kyle caused and created, that made initiating any of Stan's inner plans so difficult to do.

What else could Kyle have meant? It was a rather interesting question, and it was plaguing Stan's mind as he absent-mindedly walked with his friends to the cinema. One of the interpretations that Stan came up with was that he wanted Stan to win his heart. It was, of course, the one that Stan wanted more, but it also seemed the less likely, less logical. Why would Kyle want Stan to win his heart? It seemed like a rather pathetic idea that Kyle would want someone _other_ than the person he was dating to win his heart...

The more logical reasoning was Kyle's indifference, but it was definitely something that Stan did not favor as much. It made more sense, and it had definitely been more realistic. Yet still... what point was there in trying to charm someone who you already knew wouldn't respond? As Stan had found himself doing a lot recently, he began pondering the options, and as much as he wanted to figure out for himself which one it was, he couldn't. Especially with Kenny there.

In his mind, Stan was formulating ways to determine the correct reasoning, but with the presence of Kenny it was simply too unrealistic.

"...You know, we could always watch that other movie again..." Stan heard Kenny tell Kyle.

"Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Goblet in the Chamber of Azkaban?" Kyle asked. "No way dude. No fucking way. I am _not_ watching fake broomsticks swing all over the place again."

"You know you liked it," said Kenny, but Stan stepped up.

"Definitely not... that movie..." Stan stuttered. "Anything but that movie..." Kyle and Kenny both looked at Stan curiously, but it didn't take long for them to realize what he meant by it. That movie had been the movie Stan walked out on, the movie he had left Clyde alone in the theaters.

And, of course, the movie that Kenny and Kyle had been kissing profusely during.

"There're always other movies," said Kenny. "How about Grudge 3?"

"Hell no," Kyle said defiantly. "No way I'm watching another Grudge movie. The second one sucked."

"I don't think I wanna watch it either," said Stan defensively.

"Well..." started Kenny, but he stopped for a while. Stan frowned in silence as a cold draft of wind blew through. Served him right for wearing a t-shirt and shorts in the cold. "Would you rather watch Big Gay Al's Rainbow Adventures?"

"NO!" yelled Kyle and Stan a little too quickly, and the movie had been settled. The movie hadn't seemed that bad at first. It wasn't as stupid as the last one, which negated Kyle's claims. There was no arguing, however, that the first movie was clearly the best. Towards the end the movie gradually grew more scary, though Stan defiantly told himself that he wasn't scared. A walk down a dark corridor. Creaking hallways. Nothing too scary.

A clutch of his shirt.

Stan jumped, but he covered his mouth before he could make a sound. He looked to his side, and found Kyle holding on to his arm for dear life. There was no denying that Kyle was scared. But why him? Kenny was surely to his other side... Hopefully Kenny wouldn't mind.

The woman on the screen opened a door, and it creaked eerily. Stan felt his arm being grasped tighter and tighter, and Stan wondered if he should tell Kyle what he was doing. Personally Stan didn't mind, and he even enjoyed the contact. Despite that Stan could barely feel his now numb arm, and the thought of breaking that contact was being considered.

A noise of a child, followed by a scream of a woman, and as something moved in the shadows Stan felt his arm being literally tugged on... painfully. Stan looked over at Kyle, who had buried his face in Stan's shoulder. He gave his arm a wiggle, alerting Kyle of his current position. Kyle turned his head up and stared at Stan. His green eyes, though only slightly illuminated, pierced him...

"Erm... oops," muttered Kyle, and he immediately let go of the boy. His face was focused intently on the screen, and with the limited amount of light the movie gave off Stan could see a slight tint of red in his cheeks. Stan sighed, and turned back to the movie.

Kyle had been blushing. But why did it matter so much? Of all things, Stan thought that Kyle would apologize for his actions, and cling onto Kenny's arm. But... that didn't happen. Was it a way of showing that Kyle was confused on who he wanted? No, of course not... Stan knew better. That was just what _he_ wanted. Sighing again, Stan watched the rest of the movie.

After the last fifteen minutes flew by, the three boys were greeted by the familiar ruckus of people leaving the theaters. Dim lights led the way as Kenny led Kyle and Stan out. Dark skies met them, and when the three had finished putting themselves together and getting used to standing once more, the three began heading home.

"Interesting movie," Stan muttered, attempting to strike conversation. No one replied to his statement; only a mere nod of heads. The three continued to walk in silence, Kyle and Kenny walking slightly slower due to joined hands. Seeing this, like before, made him feel slightly uneasy, yet he couldn't help remembering Kyle's green eyes... and of course, his blush.

"See you tomorrow, Stan," Kenny said once they had reached Stan's house. Stan nodded, waving to the boys, and with a thrust of the door he entered his house, shutting it tightly behind him. It would be a hard night to go through, with many things to think about. But regardless of what he was going to do, Stan took off his shoes and headed upstairs, collapsing immediately into his bed.

* * *

The following day, Wednesday, seemed to lead towards an excellent day. Their English class had turned in their essays, which Stan had completely forgotten about. As volunteers read their papers Stan did his best to conclude his essay, writing illegibly in desperate need for time. Stan smiled as he finished, only minutes before the papers were called up. Again, a benifit for not being allowed to type anything. 

Stan's second period was even more uplifting.. Coach Fagai was absent, and so the students did nothing for the whole period. While most students chose to shoot hoops Stan decided to sit against the wall. The best part of the class, perhaps, was Wendy being called out of class. Stan wondered how the police were coming along with the investigation, and he wondered if he should help by giving his information. Though... it did surprise him that they never called Stan down. Wouldn't they come to the conclusion that Stan, who had witnessed the death, would be the one to ask information from?

This idea had bugged Stan temporarily, and so by the time fourth period came around he decided to ask Kyle. They were sitting beside each other, thanks to the seat change a week before, but it was still impossible to talk about without being reprimanded by the teacher. So naturally, Stan did the only thing he could do.

Pass notes.

Stan flipped open his notebook and found a blank sheet of paper. He slowly tore it out along a perforated edge, and took out a pen to write with. _Should I tell the authorities what I know about Clyde?_ Stan scribbled on the paper, and as he glanced at the teacher he tossed it onto Kyle's desk. He pretended to pay attention for several minutes, trying to establish an innocuous, innocent child in his teacher's eyes. After several minutes he heard a paper fall on his own desk, and he hastily opened the note and read it.

_Only if you want to._ It took five minutes to write that much? Rolling his eyes, Stan wrote a reply.

_What's that supposed to mean?_

_Exactly what it says. Only tell someone if you feel that you're ready, or if it's absolutely necessary. No one's forcing you to, so don't think of it as a mandatory action._ Stan sighed, blowing upwards while watching his bangs flutter with his breath. He looked at Kyle, who merely shrugged back at him, grinning sheepishly.

"Sorry," he muttered. Stan nodded. He continued to think about the concept throughout the class, and even into lunch. To tell, or not to tell... was that the question? Stan shook his head, making the resolution to think about it later. He sat down with Kyle at a lunch table, and the two seated themselves across from each other.

"I had nightmares from the movie, you know," muttered Kyle. Stan smiled, noting Kyle's reaction to the movie the previous night.

"I'd assume so," said Stan. "My arm's still in pain from all the pulling you did to it." Kyle chuckled, staring down at his lunch in embarrassment. That blush again... Stan looked at his own lunch, not wanting to see the red beginning to appear in Kyle's face. Somehow... it was almost as if it he was developing his own...

The moment was temporarily interrupted by Kenny, who sat down beside Kyle, and greeted them both loudly. The two returned to their senses, breaking away from their still untouched food, and noted Kenny's presence. After that it had become a normal day of lunch: Kenny and Kyle side by side, conversations of random topics, and occasional giggles. Stan found himself staring more and more at his food. Why had it only been now that Stan started noticing these things?

His thoughts were interrupted by a tap of his foot. Ignoring it at first, he continued to stare at his lunch bag, but after another tap his head jerked upward. He caught sight of Kenny, who was still talking about the success on his English paper that was written about poor economic status not being the greatest poverty. Kyle was a different story, and as Stan turned to him the boy was staring directly at him, with a goofy smile plastered on his face. Another tap on his foot, and Stan got the idea. He smiled, blushed, and fought back.

But then...

"Kyle, can I talk to you?" Not a harsh tone, but not gentle. Not a furious expression, but not pleasant. Not angered, but not happy. Kyle agreed to the request, and as he walked away Stan could only stare at the disappearing figure. How had he figured it out? Had they been that obvious? Stan shut his eyes in worry as he thought of what might happen... he never meant to get Kyle in trouble...

He sat still, alone at the table, and hoping for the best. Hopefully he hadn't screwed the boy over too much.

* * *

Random ending. Kinda choppy. But that was the effect I wanted. I wanted it to seem abrupt, just as it seemed to Stan. I hope you understand why I did it that way. 

Anyway, I'm in the middle of writing chapter 27. Yes, Zakuyoe is actually writing ahead! Because as far as I know, I'm the only one who posts as he writes.

I finished writing the Epilogue though. Kinda had the thought in mind, and decided to write it. I'm not giving any hints on what it's about though.

**okay more importantly...** I had a new idea for a story in mind, and if I get enough people to like it (hence, that's why you'll tell me) I'll make this my main priority after Faith. Because, well, I like the idea, it's based off one of my dreams, and it seems like it'll be fun to write. Problem? It's completely unrelated to the South Park genre. I WANT TO MAKE IT A SOUTH PARK FIC. However, that means that it would be a AU story, or a story written in an alternate universe. Here's the summary:

_A boy has an amazing ability to bring life to whomever he kisses. However, he becomes hesitant when the person in desperate need of a cure is a guy. But having the power to bring life does come at a price..._

Again, it'd be sorta AU. But if you think it'd be an okay plot, please tell me. I really wanna write the fic. I'm excited for it, in a way.

Review while I finish chapter 27. Fast updates as the holiday break approaches. :)


	27. Would this be it?

Damn... less people reviewing... you guys must prefer the gory stuff, huh?

Story alert said Chapter 7. Obviously, I meant 27.

Anyway, the fic's almost done! I wanna see more reviews! Come on. You guys have done 14 per chapter... twice. I don't wanna set a limit, but... seriously!

Even MORE StanKyle stuff here! More than ever, actually... though maybe not as much as next chapter. But seriously. The lack of reviews is making me think you HATE STANKYLE! Or should I just kill Kyle and catch your attention?

* * *

Stan could see them. Through the crowd of the cafeteria, though a small one, he could see Kyle's bright red hair and Kenny's bright orange clothing. They were standing against a wall of the cafeteria deep in conversation, and from how they were standing Stan could tell it was a serious subject. Their hands were not entwined, much as they normally had been for the past few weeks. Arms were folded across the chest, for each boy, and their positions lacked the closeness that had kept them together for so long. 

In a way, Stan was happy. For once, it seemed, the two boys were not within an inch radius of each other, and they were giving each other room. It also left Stan devoid of the jealous feeling that had developed inside of him, after watching them together for days upon end. Yet inside he felt bad. He had been a major cause of the discussion. His behavior at his own house the night before, to that at the movies, and even to their small footsies competition a few seconds before... It was almost as if Stan was forcing a feeling upon him, one that he might not necessarily want, and would thus cause Kyle to act differently.

He watched as he balled up his paper bag that once contained his lunch. He kept sight of the two boys, shifting his position at the table to ease the task. He could see Kyle's head shake vigorously, strongly opposing an idea, followed shortly by Kenny's profuse nodding. Stan began to wonder what they were talking about. He wanted to think that Kenny was breaking up with Kyle, but the conversation still seemed too casual to suggest it. Stan thought of other ideas, but none seemed to quite fit with the ocular proof he was given. The only logical thing he could come up with, and still being decent, was that they were discussing what to do for a one-month celebration, though he did not know if it had already passed or not.

Stan continued to watch as the two conversed, and he leaned forward in his seat as he watched the two keenly. Kyle had nodded slightly, removing his arms from their folded position. A spark ran through Stan as Kenny extended his arm to comfort Kyle's shoulder, and suddenly Kyle seemed more fragile and weak than he had been. Stan watched as Kyle dug himself into Kenny's arms, still nodding yet seemingly crying. Stan couldn't tell anymore.

And then, a sideward glance towards the table.

Stan immediately shot his glance down to the table. He knew Kyle had caught him staring. He didn't dare turn back to the scene, unsure it he was still being watched. It was as if time had slowed down to a complete stop, and nothing seemed to be happening. Stan stared at his ball of a lunch bag for ages, anticipating the two's return. It seemed like forever, and even though nothing was really occurring slower to Stan it felt like it.

He felt Kyle slide in at his side, with Kenny opposite them. For a few seconds Stan questioned their change in seating, and that perhaps their conversation had been a cause; however, he soon remembered that it had been he who changed seats to begin with. He didn't want to look up, not wanting to have to face the embarrassment of being caught. He didn't know what to say, nor did he know what to do or feel. He only continued to stare at the paper ball, keeping a keen eye on it as if his life depended on it.

"I'm gonna go now," said Kenny, and he left the table soon after. He expected Kyle to follow him, maybe to stop him or to talk to him. Instead, Stan heard no noise, and only continued to sense his presence beside him.

"Should we... get going?" Stan tried asking, and as he did so he picked up the paper ball and stood up. He looked down on the boy, who remained unresponsive and motionless. He patted Kyle on the back several times, and produced no result. What was he supposed to do? Stan didn't want to leave Kyle there, but... what other option did he have? The bell was going to ring any second, and he would have to leave for his fifth period class soon.

"Stan..." Kyle spoke, though he already had Stan's full attention. "After school... today... can I talk... to you?"

"Sure dude," said Stan, not looking at Kyle as he said so. From the way Kyle spoke he was nervous, and seeing him nervous wouldn't produce a positive effect for Stan. "Are you okay?"

"Not... I'll talk about it later, okay?" Stan nodded, and in the following silence a bell rang. Students arose from their seats, picking up their stuff as they walked out of the cafeteria. Stan remained at Kyle's side as they followed the crowds; the clangor around them was enough to defeat the silence.

"I'll see you after school?" Stan inquired, and Kyle nodded. Stan turned away to leave for his own fifth period, but before he could begin moving he felt a hand upon his shoulder.

"Stan...?" And as Stan turned he was met with piercing green eyes, more noticeably green than ever before. But there was something else to his eyes that Stan noticed now, something he was almost positive hadn't been there before: sadness.

"Yes?" Stan asked, but Kyle only hung his head.

"Thank you," he muttered, "and I'm sorry." But before Stan could ask about the matter any further Kyle strode away, the image of dazzling green eyes instilled in his mind.

- - - - - - - - - -

Naturally, Stan was worried about Kyle's situation. He knew it had been caused because of the conversation he had with Kenny, but it was clearly more than that. During the passing period between fifth and sixth classes, Stan noticed Kyle and Kenny talking to each other, and even though Kyle was not as animated as usual he was still talking to Kenny more than he had with Stan.

Stan initially had felt both pleased and saddened by the conversation, but as it was now the latter seemed to be the more prominent emotion. Stan was saddened by the fact that Kyle was being particularly nervous and sad around him, and Stan knew that the conversation had been more than just a "rendezvous location for their one-month celebration." It was painful to think about. Stan wanted to find hope in the situation and that, perhaps, Kyle's condition was a good thing; however, he kept no faith in it.

Regardless, Stan knew that the conversation had been about _him_.

He didn't quite know what it was exactly, though he had several ideas. It was fairly obvious to Stan; Kenny was questioning Kyle's loyalty, and based on what he observed he knew that Kyle wanted Stan instead. Of course, it was a biased conclusion, and it favored Stan's outcomes. Stan wanted to know what had happened, and so, in his curiosity, he decided to ask. Sixth period was the last class that Stan had with Kenny for the day, and as their teacher was oblivious to everything it was the perfect opportunity.

"Kenny, what happened today?" Stan asked quietly. Their sixth period class, Semantics, had the desks arranged in groups, almost suggesting cheating and talking during class.

"Hrm?" asked Kenny. "What'd you mean?"

"Kyle," replied Stan simply. "He's... suddenly depressed. I don't know what's wrong with him, and he won't talk to me... or at least, not until this afternoon."

"Then wait," said Kenny. "It's only a couple of more hours. You'll find out soon enough, I'd expect."

"But I don't wanna wait, dude!" said Stan, glancing at their ignorant teacher. "I wanna know now! What's wrong with Kyle? What if it's serious?"

"Oh, well, I'm sure you'll figure out soon enough," said Kenny. Stan frowned at him; he was being a little too... uncaring.

"You know don't you," accused Stan, causing Kenny to gape at him. "Did you break up with him or something?"

"Well..." _Bull's-eye._ "...Yeah. I did. But it was a mutual thing, though. I'm sure what's bothering him isn't that." Stan nodded, images of the conversation returning to him. Kyle cried in Kenny's arms; Kenny was probably telling the truth.

"Okay," said Stan. "But what's wrong with Kyle?"

"Relax, dude," said Kenny, looking over his shoulder and making sure that their teacher hadn't caught on to their conversation yet. "He'll tell you, don't worry. But you know what I think?"

"What?"

"You seem to care for him a lot." Stan was taken aback by the statement, feeling slightly confused.

"Of course I do, dude. He's my friend."

"You know what I mean..." said Kenny. "As if you... _love him_." And as he said this Stan realized where he had been getting at. All those times at the beginning, where Kenny had made the accusations of him loving Kyle, and all those times Stan declined. But now...

"I do love him," admitted Stan. "I mean, it's weird admitting that to someone who _just_ dated him, but... I do love him..." Stan bit his lip, looking at the blonde nervously.

"Stan... you've definitely changed," said Kenny, patting the boy on his back. "But you have to trust me. He'll tell you what's going on, okay?" Stan nodded, turning to the overhead, and thinking only of what could possibly occur after school that day.

- - - - - - - - - -

Children racing down halls, footsteps thundering, teachers wrapping up lessons, lockers banging, bags falling, cell phones ringing, buses rolling in, cars driving up, and gossiping voices chattering. This was the environment that was established at the end of the day. Stan didn't care about the information he was learning in his Biology class, letting it go in one ear and out the other. On the outside he was calm, collected, and not paying attention. On the inside... nervous, anxious, and not paying attention. The seniors, who held a privilege of leaving class five minutes earlier than the underclassmen, were already loquacious, doing almost all they could to create a racket. Stan's Biology teacher tried her best to finish her lesson, but clearly no one was paying attention.

_Five..._ Stan wondered what Kyle wanted to tell him. It had been bothering him since lunch, and it was about time he figured out what it was.

_Four..._ What did Kyle mean by "Thank you, and I'm sorry" when he said it at lunch? Thank you for what? Sorry for what? Stan didn't understand what it was that he was thankful and sorry for. Perhaps the thank you had been for the ability to talk to him, but why was he sorry?

_Three..._ Kenny knew that Stan loved him. He had finally come around to telling Kenny, as opposed to the many times that he had denied it. But what significance was there in that? Kenny wasn't bothered by the idea that he liked his ex-boyfriend, despite how soon it had been. Stan knew Kenny knew what was going on.

_Two..._ Stan wanted to relax, but his insides were tearing him apart. He didn't know why he bothered himself so much with Kyle's affairs, but whatever the reason had been he knew that it wasn't helping him now. Of course... he could say that he "cared so much for Kyle's welfare" because he loved him. Yeah... that was it.

_One_... Any second now, Stan would see Kyle. He didn't even know what he wanted to say, yet Stan was dying to know. He was only moments away from leaving the classroom and finding Kyle, leaving to find a quieter place to discuss Kyle's problems.

_Zero..._ And as Stan shot his head up to look at the clock the dismissal bell had rung. More footsteps joined those outside, creating an utmost disaster. Stan allowed the class to empty before getting up. He wasn't quite sure what class Kyle had seventh period, so he made his way to Kyle's locker instead.

Navigating was disastrous. Upperclassmen felt the need to push people out of their way, creating a wave effect that rippled through the halls. Stan could've sworn that their school had a small population, yet it definitely did not seem like it. He made his way through the crowd, and Stan mumbled under his breath as he went against the crowd. After much pushing Stan found himself at Kyle's locker.

He wasn't there.

Panicking, Stan looked around the area. Where was Kyle? It was like taking candy away from a baby, though not in the same sense it was always used. Stan looked around, trying to find his object of desire, and as he couldn't locate it he felt desperation fill his insides.

"Stan...?" Stan swiveled on the spot, and upon seeing the boy he leapt into his arms. Kyle remained shocked, though he was able to mildly pat Stan's back.

"Kyle, you're here!" exclaimed Stan. "I thought you ditched me or something..."

"I went to your locker, and you weren't there," said Kyle with a frown. How ironic. "Can we find... somewhere to sit?" Stan nodded, leading Kyle through the dissipating crowds. He led the boy to the courtyard, though almost immediately he felt his stomach wretch.

_Clyde had asked Stan out here..._

Stan did his best to not think about, not wanting to ruin whatever Kyle had to say. There had been several benches in the courtyard at least, and so he picked one furthest away from where he had sat the previous time. They seated themselves quickly, but both remained silent for some time. Stan turned to Kyle to see if he was all right, but he was met with the same sadness in his eyes, the same piercing green.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Stan asked. Kyle looked at him grimly, and opened his mouth to make a response.

"I never said I was," Kyle muttered.

"Tell me what's wrong then," said Stan. He could sense the boy's uneasiness, something that he had experienced quite frequently.

"Stan... I'm sorry," Kyle muttered, taking Stan aback.

"Why?"

"Well... for how I've treated you..." For how he treated him?

"Dude, you've been just fine to me," said Stan. "I don't remember you letting me down at all. Especially after Clyde's death." He cringed after mentioning his name, being so close to a place that brought back memories...

"I mean... before that..." said Kyle. Stan frowned at him.

"Dude, we've already went over this," said Stan. "You said that you have Kenny, and that I lost my chance."

"And then I said you _didn't_ really lose that chance, remember?" Kyle asked, and as he continued Stan could tell where he was getting at. Whether or not it was for the better... he didn't know yet. "Stan... just hear me out, okay?"

"Okay," Stan said simply.

"Okay, well... I liked you initially. But then, you turned me down and stuff... and then, not even long afterwards, Kenny asked me out. I said yes to him, Stan, but it was only because I was desperate to find something to cling on to. I wanted someone I could turn to, especially after being beat up. I wanted someone who loved me, even if it wasn't the person I loved the most. I settled with Kenny.

"But... I don't know what it is with you, but I still felt like I wanted you. I tried convincing myself that I had Kenny, to settle once more. But there's something about you that made me question myself, and it wasn't a plesant feeling. I told myself that I wouldn't rely solely on you, and so I turned you down.

"I didn't want to tell Kenny about it because, well, he'd be heartbroken. But lately he's been noticing how I've been acting, and today he pulled me out of lunch to talk to me about it. I felt bad, but as I listened to him I learned something about him too: He had dated me out of pity. Rather, he dated me because my brother wanted to see me happy. It made me feel happy, that someone would do that to see me happy. But at the same time... I felt bad, because the whole time I had been denying someone who _actually_ liked me, and I let go of that chance... And that's why, Stan, I'm sorry." The boy concluded by hanging his head, not wanting to look up at Stan. Stan already knew most of what he had said, and the only bit of news he didn't know was Kyle's personal motives. Inside he was happy, merry, and ecstatic. Outside, he was calm, collected... and still ecstatic.

"Kyle," said Stan raising Kyle's chin with his fingertips. He was met with Kyle's piercing green eyes once more, welled slightly with tears, and even though it wasn't the same Kyle he was used to seeing he could see some of the sadness in his eyes disappearing. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's forgiveness. I understand what you've done, I understand why you reacted the way you did. And... I've already forgiven you for it, and I will once again." Stan raised his fingers to Kyle's cheeks, and he wiped away the tears that were beginning to make their downhill run down his cheek.

"Stan... I really do like you," Kyle muttered under his breath. "Have I... lost that chance?" Stan smiled, and he let all the joyful feelings inside of him let loose. He hugged the boy tightly, releasing all of his emotions in every way possible. It was just as he wanted it. It was finally the way it should be, the way it should've been.

Stan grinned madly, rubbing Kyle's back as he let himself absorb his euphoria. "Of course not," he muttered, and nothing else was said. What words were necessary in such a situation? Actions spoke louder than words; no verbal communication was necessary to display such happiness.

Stan knew what Kyle wanted. And _this_ time, he stated that it was _exactly_ what he wanted as well.

* * *

Wow, talk about fluff... now you BETTER review this, since I finally got the two together. Comments, constructive criticism, etc.

Yay happy ending! Except... it's not the ending. what could _possibly_ happen for three more chapters? Review and you might find out.

A TON of references from previous chapters. The most prominent is the very last line, from chapter 5. Read back if you don't understand some of the links.

Chapter 28 comes if I get a decent amount of reviews. Not... three, like last chapter. That made me sad.

AND, read my story! It's the one I was talking to you guys about last chapter. It's not really AU as I thought it would be, but... give it a shot, review it, etc.

-Zakuyoe


	28. Let the Pillar Burn

Welcome back! Wow, we're so close to the ending now! Seventeen reviews, dude! So maybe you guys like StanKyle slashy stuff after all!

Sorry Sorry! I have WAYYYY too many reviews to do review replies! I started, and ended up at like 2000 words (review replies only), and I was only halfway done. SO, what I'm doing instead is I'll make one FINAL goodbye shoutout at the very end, thanking EVERY person to ever have reviewed my story. good deal?

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The house telephone rang, with all its glory, and without warning Stan raced to receive the long awaited call. It was seven at night, making it a three and a half hour wait for Kyle's phone call. Within that time Stan did nothing, only amusing himself with the wonders of Internet while waiting for Kyle's promised call. The other boy wanted to do his homework before giving his attention to Stan, and although Stan complained that homework came before him, he followed through with Kyle's plan nonetheless. 

And of course, Kyle had finally called; Stan was happier than ever.

"Hey Kyle!" Stan exclaimed, almost yelling into the receiver. He was greeted by a muffled fit of laughter, which he clearly recognized to be Kyle's.

"Someone's excited to hear from me," said Kyle. Stan nodded furiously, slightly forgetting that the other boy couldn't see him.

"Of course, dude!" Stan said gleefully. "So how was your homework?"

"Pretty tiring," Kyle muttered. "I had to do some worksheets for AP Bio, then switched gears to studying for both my Precalculus and my Chemistry exams tomorrow. I started doing my outline for Human Geography, but then I decided to call you instead." Stan smiled from his end of the phone; Kyle's heavy workload always astonished him, and Stan could never figure out how the kid was able to get all his work done.

"Get a life," Stan chuckled lightheartedly. "There's a lot more to life, you know."

"As if you've been doing anything interesting for the past few hours," Kyle shot back, nailing the accusation right on the money. Stan was at a loss for words, trying to get around the accusation, but both boys already knew he was right. "Well, what've you done so far?"

"Uh, nothing," Stan admitted, and the two of them laughed. "Waiting for your precious phone call, if you _really_ wanted to know."

"Precious?" Kyle questioned. Stan nodded but quickly corrected his action, muttering a verbal confirmation to the boy. "So what I say is precious now?"

"Well valued, at the least," said Stan. "To me, I mean."

"Have you at least started on your homework?" Kyle asked, and Stan laughed nervously. "Dude, I'm flattered that you were waiting for me, but… you gotta do your homework too!"

"It's only Geometry homework," Stan muttered. "I can do that any time I want anyway. I've got lunch period to do it, too, remember?" He heard the boy sigh in defeat on the other side of the phone.

"Fine," came his response, and Stan laughed from his side of the phone. "But can I ask you a more serious question?"

"Yeah?"

"What're you going to do about Clyde?" Stan bit his lip at the sound of the boy's name, but he merely shook his head violently.

"What'd you mean?"

"Don't you think you should help the police force?" Kyle asked. "You know Clyde deserves the proper justice… give him the proper honor he deserves. Don't let Cartman and Wendy get away with it!"

"I'll tell them when I'm ready," muttered Stan. "And I don't believe that I'm ready now. I promise you, Kyle. When I can openly talk about it, I will."

"You told me…" Kyle said silently, trailing his sentence off.

"But that's you," said Stan. "At least with you I know that information's safe. And I don't have a fear of being hunted down when I tell you. Who knows? Some member of ANTIGSA might chase me down if I tell the authorities." There was a silence on the line, though much unlike the abundance of silences the boys had suffered through within the last month. He could hear Ike in the background, the loud cries suggesting a war breaking out in the boy's room. Kyle made scarce noise, but the occasional 'hmm' was enough to tell Stan that he was thinking.

"I guess you have a point," Kyle said, sighing in defeat for the second time within one phone call. "Promise me that you'll tell the police eventually."

"Of course," Stan said honestly. He looked outside his window, where a small storm of flurries had picked up. "You know I will."

"Great," said Kyle. "Hey Stan, I have to go help my brother in his massive war against the aliens. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Sure," said Stan, frowning slightly at Kyle's departure. "Oh wait, Kyle?"

"Yeah?"

"You know tomorrow's Valentine's Day, right?" He smirked, ideas racing in his head of things he could do for the two the following night.

"And?" said Kyle, and before Stan could reply the boy hung up. Stan frowned, still holding the phone to his ear. What had just happened? Perhaps Kyle had not heard Stan right… _Valentine's Day_! But then, there had been a sly tone to his voice… Perhaps Kyle just dismissed the topic on purpose.

Whatever the reason, Stan grinned madly, putting on his jacket. He would have shopping to attend to, now.

-

Valentine's Day came accompanied with a calm sheet of snow, covering the roofs and car hoods of South Park. Angry townsmen arose minutes before to brush off the new snow, but for the most part the new layer was in the least bit inconvenient. Snow on the ground level quickly disappeared, trodden frequently upon by car tires and the soles of shoes. Stan's shoes were among the many footprints that marked the ground, moving swiftly along the snow's surface.

He arrived at the school fifteen minutes before his classes started, which surprised him since he believed himself to be rather late that morning. He walked briskly through the halls while listing the names of the teachers that taught in the classrooms he passed by. It wouldn't be long until he reached their hangout location. It would be the first day with Stan and Kyle as a couple, and Stan wondered if Kenny really minded. Sure, Kenny had pretty much been the one to cause the two to get together to begin with, but that didn't mean he agreed with the coupling, either.

He stopped at the hangout, looked around, and frowned. "Where's Kyle?" He directed the question toward Kenny, the only person present.

"I dunno," Kenny mumbled, taking a bite into a bagel. Stan frowned, leaning against the concrete column as he looked to his feet. "I haven't seen him yet."

"Oh, okay…" Another silence. "Hey, Kenny, about—"

"I don't mind," Kenny muttered simply, and Stan stared at him in shock.

"How'd you know what I was—?"

"Not that hard to figure out," Kenny said with a smile. "But… I want what's best for Kyle. If he's better off with you than he is with me, then by all means take him. I just hated seeing him the way he was… that long ago."

"But am I that way now?" The sudden voice shocked both boys, and as Stan gleefully turned around he found the boy he had previously been looking for. The two smiled, meeting each other in a warm embrace, and as they separated they smiled into each other's gaze.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" Kyle exclaimed, and Stan smiled.

"Orange and green?" Stan muttered, looking at Kyle's attire. "Not exactly Valentine's Day attire, if you ask me."

"But you bought it for me!" Kyle exclaimed, startling Stan. "So naturally, it's appropriate to wear!"

"You know about that?" Stan asked, and Kyle nodded mischievously. "I thought your parents kept that a secret…"

"They did, Kyle muttered. "Ike didn't. Besides, I kinda found out on my own." Kyle removed his book bag, setting it on the concrete platform underneath the stairs, and as he reached into his bag he revealed a small, decorated box. "Chocolates," Kyle said simply. "For you."

"Thanks!" Stan said, happily taking it. Kyle handed Kenny a similar sized box, and as he returned his gaze to Stan's he smiled. "Don't worry, Stan. The other one's I'm giving aren't as big as yours. I only gave that to Kenny because, well…"

"I get it," Stan said reassuringly, pulling Kyle into his embrace once more. "I'd give you my gift too," began Stan, whispering softly into Kyle's ear, "but I kinda don't have it with me."

"You forgot your present? How could you?" Kyle's voice was cheerful, sarcastic, and playful, and it didn't take long for Kenny to figure out what was going on.

"Mind if it I give it to you later tonight, then?" Stan said, smiling. Kyle nodded profusely, but as the two turned toward a confused Kenny Stan laughed.

"You guys aren't really going to… you know… on the first day of dating…?"

"'Course not," Stan said, his voice cracking in laughter. "We all aren't as perverted as you, Kenny."

-

First period class, the ever-so-famous English class of Mr. Absenence, was even emptier that morning than it normally was. As expected, Cartman and Wendy were missing from class, but there were also a handful of other students missing. As many of the students noted, since they were more in tune to what occurred around the school, their peers were missing by the pairs, and it didn't take long for Mr. Absenence to catch on the reason behind the absences.

"We still gotta do work!" Stan complained, and the class laughed. The teacher nodded solemnly, passing out simple worksheets. Kyle laughed, noting the ridiculousness of the assignment, and after showing it to Stan the boy turned red.

"I'm not as bad as you think," said his teacher. "But if I can't spend time with my wife on Valentine's, then neither should the rest of you. Yet still…"

"Mr. Absenence!" Stan exclaimed, standing up. "I propose that you should get off work and find that wife of yours!"

"Good idea!" said Butters, standing up. "I—I'll be the substitute teacher, I—I suppose."

"That's entirely unnecessary—"

"Do it!" exclaimed Bebe, also joining in with her class. "Your wife deserves it!"

"Besides," Kyle said, also standing up. "For someone with that last name, you need to have more absences." The class chuckled, and as his teacher turned red Kyle added; "Don't worry… I know a friend who could've said a lot worse."

"Fine!" yelled their teacher, and the class cheered. "I'll—" but he was interrupted by the intercom. The class groaned in disappointment, and as Stan sat down once more he heard his name.

"Could you please Stan Marsh down to the office?" Mr. Absenence nudged his head in the direction of the door, and Stan complied. He knew what it was about, and as he glanced back at Kyle he nodded, exiting the room. He walked for a while, finding his way to the main office, and as he opened the door he met the presence of a police office.

He was instructed to follow the officer, and as Stan followed him he made his way through a couple of barren hallways. He arrived in front of a room, _Resource Office_, and as the officer took a seat he extended a hand. Stan willingly took the offer, seating himself in front of the officer.

"You know why you're here?" A nod. "You know what I want?" Another nod. "Do you think you're ready?" A third nod, and then Stan began to tell his story. He left things out, such as names, but he did describe them at the least. The officer handed him a tissue, more than once, and by the end Stan was in an emotional fit. Of course, there was a lot more that happened, but for the sake of everyone (Stan, Kyle, Clyde, and you, as the reader) it won't be said again in detail.

"I won't reveal your name, I promise." Stan nodded, looking at the clock. Almost the end of first period…

"It doesn't really matter. In the end Car—I mean, whoever it is---will eventually figure me out."

"You'll be fine," said the officer. "You should head back to class now. Are you sure you'll be fine?"

"Yeah," Stan said. "I kinda have to… Don't want my date on Valentine's to see me in such a wreck, right?" Stan chuckled at his own joke, though as he thought about it, Kyle probably wouldn't have cared what condition Stan appeared in.

"Lucky girl to have you as a boyfriend," the officer said, and Stan turned red. "Go get 'er, kid." Stan laughed and nodded, standing up to leave the room. He debated for a second whether he should correct the officer, but he decided against it. Lucky girl, lucky boy… same thing. Kyle was Kyle, regardless if he was a boy or girl. Stan would've probably liked him either way.

There was one more task Stan had left to accomplish, and as he thought about it, he smiled. "Tonight," began Stan, rubbing his hands together; "Tonight belongs to him."

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That's chapter 28! yay, now we're only two chapters away from end... 

Some advertisements. In the South Park fandom, I really need people to look at **_Crystal Beyond the Horizon_**, currently in it's 11th chapter, and it needs major review. Likewise for this story's counterpart, **_Hope_**. _**Run**_ will also be updated shortly.

I have a Cardcaptor Sakura fic up, **_The Wizard of Elements_**, and although it sounds... I dunno. It's actually a romance story between Syaoran and Sakura. Read that too.

-

Anyway, I hope you review this, as I need all the more motivation to help me... nail that ending. I've never actually completed a whole story before, except oneshots. So... please review, and I'll gladly appreciate it!

-Zak-


	29. Forgetting Haunted Memories

This story is becoming a pain in the ass. Why? Because I really want it to finish, but I can't get myself to end it! It seems as if I need like another 5 more chapters to properly finish it, etc. This chapter really isn't affected by this… Leave me a review telling me what you think. To finish as plan and get this thing over with (so I can continue **Nostalgia: My Past Neverlasting**—_READ IT PLEASE!_) or prolong this further… if necessary.

**Faith**  
_Chapter 29_

"I'm really glad you finally told someone else," muttered Kyle as they were walking home that afternoon.

Stan nodded silently, turning away. "You've told me already. At least six times."

"Pretty sure it was seven," Kenny piped up as he leaned forward to catch sight of Kyle on Stan's other side. "And that's only when I've been around you guys."

"So ten, then," concluded Stan. "I mean, this happened first period. It's like, what, three in the afternoon now?"

"So, maybe I'm that proud of you," said Kyle. "I mean, you've taken a pretty big step by telling someone else."

"And maybe Clyde will finally get the justice he deserves," said Kenny. He frowned for a second, looking between the two boys and then added: "Shouldn't you two be holding hands or something?"

"Well, uh… Stan's hands are dirty so I don't want to hold them."

"Oh…" Lie.

"Well, actually," began Stan as he corrected Kyle, "we weren't sure if you'd be okay with it…"

"Why, dudes?" Kenny asked. "I mean, you're a couple, right? I frankly don't care if Kyle's holding some hand that isn't my own. 'Long as he's happy."

"Thanks," said Kyle. Kenny smiled as the two other boys moved closer to one another. "I guess this is where we depart?"

"Yeah," said Kenny, waving a goodbye. Stan and Kyle waited for several moments, watching the boy as he walked away.

"Things are gonna be better now, then?" asked Kyle. Stan frowned, turning away slowly as he began walking once more. "Stan?"

"Never the same," Stan muttered. "As long as he's gone… as long as Cartman's still around…"

"I thought you told the officer about ANTIGSA and Cartman?" asked Kyle, frowning. Stan shook his head slowly, causing Kyle to gape at him. "What'd you tell him then?"

"I told him everything," said Stan, "but I didn't mention any names…"

"Why, dude?"

"I dunno… I guess I didn't really think about it…"

"But after all he did?" Kyle asked in disbelief. "Did you do it on purpose?"

"Not intentionally… I think."

"Stan!—" but Kyle didn't finish. He turned to Stan, and as he looked at the boy he sighed. "This isn't really the best conversation to have on Valentine's Day, no?"

"Yeah… I mean, like I agree with you... if that makes sense." He paused for a second, looking at the road ahead of him. "You aren't… doing anything today, are you?"

"That's about the sixth time you've asked me," said Kyle, smirking. "Seems like we both have that problem, then."

"Well… so then you can still come over to my house then?"

"Sure dude, see you there?"

-

Stan was nervous.

Kyle was due in about five minutes, and as the raven-haired boy stared at his front door he gulped. Tablecloths?—check. Food?—check. Tickets to a movie?—not yet, but that wouldn't be too hard—check. But the one thing that he'd need the most that night definitely wasn't ready yet: himself—and, perhaps, courage.

His parents were gone, at least, as they had their own date to attend to. And of course, using the same reason, Shelley was also gone from the house—out with her boyfriend that was at least five years older. He was thankful, most definitely, as that would mean he'd have the house to himself…

With the doorbell's ring Stan shook his head from thought, his mind immediately racing faster than his legs could ever run. Gulping he walked forward, and slowly approached the door. Out of habit he peered outside the adjacent window, though as he caught sight of Kyle's beaming face he realized he didn't even need to look. Taking one final breath, Stan opened the door.

"Hey dude," greeted Kyle as he stepped inside. Stan merely stood in shock and wonder as the Jewish boy helped himself inside—had Stan told him to dress formally? He wore black dress pants, which were easy to describe; but describing his top was more difficult. For the most part it was a dress shirt, white in color; but he also wore what Stan deemed to be a sparkling ruby-colored vest on to, which dazzled as he walked under the light. "Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Thanks…" muttered Stan, looking down at his own clothes. While a polo shirt and jeans were generally considered to be decent, compared to Kyle and he's poorly dressed. He let himself be taken into the Jewish boy's embrace, smiling a little as he rested his head on Kyle's shoulder. "I made dinner…"

"Really?" Kyle asked, peering over Stan's shoulder to look at the table. It was dressed in red tablecloth, for obvious reasons, and as Stan brought the boy over to the table he smiled. Candles had been a good addition after all.

"I'm not much of a cook," said Stan, leaving the kitchen for a moment. The room was silent for several moments, but it wasn't long before Stan returned with a bowl. "I had to ask your mom for help… but it's some sort of Jewish dish."

"I hate Jewish food, dude."

"I know which is why I cooked some other stuff, too." Kyle smiled as he waited for the rest of the food to come out. Overall there had been plenty of food to eat—some that even Kyle enjoyed—and by the time Kyle set his utensils down he leaned into his chair and sighed.

"Good meal," said Kyle.

"What?" Stan asked disbelievingly. "I didn't even get to… well, nothing really."

"Say it, dude."

"Spoon feed you." Kyle stared at him for a few seconds, seemingly finding the sentence odd; but as Stan turned away in embarrassment the boy broke out into laughter.

"Spoon feed?" he repeated, and Stan nodded. "_Spoon feed_? That's so… so…"

"Stupid?"—but Kyle shook his head.

"No, no… I wouldn't have minded… though I am a bit full now." Stan nodded, slowly turning his head toward Kyle. A look at his blue eyes and Stan turned away immediately; since when had the boy gotten so shy? "What's your favorite food?"

"Huh?"

"Your. Favorite. Food. Gee, Stan, it's not that hard of a question."

"Well, uh… spaghetti then, I guess." Stan sighed as he looked to his plate, hearing Kyle arise from his seat. 'Probably going to barf in the bathroom now,' Stan thought to himself, but he immediately changed his mind when he felt two arms wrap around his neck from behind.

"Open your mouth," said Kyle, and as Stan complied he found a fork being guided into his mouth. Spaghetti… _his_ spaghetti. "I'm sure I could've been more romantic, but I don't care."

"The hug was more romantic," said Stan, chuckling; but as he turned around to face the pouting boy standing behind him he sighed. "Aw come on, don't take it like that."

"I'm not," said Kyle, smirking behind his pout. "But you definitely shook my self-confidence there."

"Sorry," Stan apologized. "Now… wanna help me finish this food?"

"You want me to help you finish? But I'm _full_!"

"Ah, you know what I mean," snapped Stan before allowing Kyle to place another forkful of spaghetti into his mouth.

-

The funny thing about dating, Stan decided, was how much harder it was to do even the simplest things. For example, back when Stan didn't have any particularly close relations with Kyle, he found it easy to touch the boy at random moments of the day. Yet now every time he wanted to hold the boy he was consciously thinking about how to do it, when to do it, if Kyle wanted him to… Especially at that moment, as the two watched a movie in the dark cinema, Stan found it extremely hard to even reach his hand over to the other boy's chair to hold his hand.

Why was it so hard?—holding hands, at least.

"Kinda sappy," Stan heard Kyle whisper into his ear, not failing in noticing how his hot breath felt on his skin. "The girl's just a bit too ditzy…"

"Yeah," Stan replied softly, turning back to the screen. He watched as the typical blonde airhead in the movie got assaulted by sexual innuendo—none of which she picked up. "You think she'd realize that the guy isn't talking about the bike she's riding on…"

"Yeah, perhaps." Kyle's gaze darted at Stan for a split second, though before Stan could notice Kyle turned back. Merely touching his hand… Instead Stan decided to tap his foot lightly on Kyle's, and as the boy turned his head for the second time Stan smiled, properly meeting his gaze this time around.

"Got your foot," Stan muttered, smirking slightly.

Kyle sighed. "You're putting up a very crappy footsie's war." Stan chuckled, not bothering to retaliate as he felt the other boy press his foot down hard on his own…

And then the movie ended. The two boys could hear everyone as they chattered and left the building, leaving the two in the room by themselves. Stan sighed, preparing to get up and leave, but as he began standing up he felt himself being dragged down.

"Stay awhile," Kyle said, pouting. Stan returned the puppy-stare for a second, but as Kyle persisted his mind turned to other things: the hand holding onto his wrist. Odd how the wanted things were being done for him…

"But I want to leave!" protested Stan.

"But we're alone…"

"If I hold your hand can we go?"

"…Fine. But I can take care of myself, you know." Stan smiled as he pulled the boy up, though as Kyle arose from his chair he took a few steps too many in the forward direction, and ultimately landing himself quite close to Stan. Even to this day Stan never figured out if Kyle had done it intentionally…

"Now where should I take you next?" Stan asked, earning a shrug from the boy.

"You've served me dinner, taken me to the arcades, bought me chocolates, and taken me to the movies. I think I'm good for the night?"

"Really?" Stan asked, pouting. "Well then… I guess I'll gladly escort you home, then."

"Why thank you, monsieur." Stan laughed as the two left the building, earning several odd glances at the sight of their entwined hands. It was Valentine's Day, Stan thought as they walked away; they should be expecting it…

"What's in that bag of yours?" Kyle asked curiously, but Stan shook his head.

"Don't worry about," said Stan, suddenly turning away from the main road. "This way…" Kyle yelped helplessly as Stan led the boy on a different street… almost a dirt road. The detour was admittedly beautiful though, with the starry night sprinkling doses of light here and there, illuminating the scene perfectly. He could hear their footsteps as they walked upon a bridge, feeling the wood now under them. "Here."

"Here?" Kyle repeated, and Stan nodded. In the middle of a bridge…? "What's here?"

"Well…" said Stan, turning away. "You know… we just sorta… started dating…"

"Yeah, 'course I know."

"Well, I just… I just wanted to ask… What exactly is it that you like in me?" Kyle raised his head, biting his lip; and although Stan could see fatigue in his eyes he could also see tears.

"Why do you care?"

"I'm just curious," Stan replied, keeping his gaze fixed on Kyle. "I just want to know…"

"Stan… I don't know… I like you. Everything about you, really. Not really anything in particular…"

"But I'm not perfect, if that's what you're implying…" And as Kyle looked down toward the ground Stan stepped forward and placed a hand on Stan's shoulder, causing the boy to shudder. Was this the right way to end Valentine's Day?—but there was still… "I'm sorry for acting the way I did… I really am… Can you forgive me?"

"'Course Stan… it was my fault too. That's what best friends are for, right…?" Stan nodded, breathing heavily. Though oddly enough… something felt wrong about this… though maybe it was merely the awkward feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Close your eyes." Kyle frowned, raising his head once more.

"What?"

"Close your eyes, Kyle. And don't look." Kyle hesitated, not sure what was going to come, but a few moments later he found himself closing his eyes, waiting patiently for further commands. Stan smiled, though his face twisted with nervousness…

"Open yours hands." Kyle frowned at the request, but nevertheless he opened his hands as he was told. Now or never…

"Stan?"—but Kyle didn't finished his question. His face turned from confusion to curiosity, and then even to pleasure—all as Stan placed an object—maybe objects—into his hand.

"Open your eyes," Stan whispered softly, and Kyle needed no telling twice. Hand still grasping the objects tightly he widened his eyes and grinned.

Roses. As he had thought.

"Stan—"

"I never officially asked you out, really," Stan explained, lowering his whole body onto one knee. Kyle raised a finger to his eye as he held the roses in his hand, all the while watching the boy as Stan raised a single hand. "This is gonna sound so sappy… Will you, Kyle Broflovski…" Stan found himself turning awfully red, but as he looked upward to meet Kyle's glance he found himself unable to stop; "…allow me…" It was almost like he found his courage merely by looking at Kyle's face; "to take your hand…" He sighed one more time, and as he lost himself in Kyle's green eyes he took one final sigh; "and perhaps… lead you through the years… together?"

"Stan, I-I… Of—" But Kyle never finished his question, for when Kyle was about to finish the sentence the two boy s heard a distinct cough. Both boys looked around, and as they searched the dim area their eyes fell upon a single girl standing at the foot of the bridge, hands shaking at her side.

And then it all hit Stan—the _dream_. How had he forgotten? He had been on a bridge… right? And he had been with Kyle… holding hands… and Wendy had been yelling at them… and then…

"I want you back, DAMNIT!" shrieked Wendy.

Roses fell to the ground. A boy sighed and shook his head violently.

_Oh shit_.

* * *

Uh oh...

Review as necessary. I'd expect a good amount of reviews since I finally updated... though I'll admit I could've made this better, somehow... I just want it to end!

-Zak

* * *

Author notes: **THREE IMPORTANT THINGS!**

**first**, I have some sad news. _**cjmarie**_ has finally ended her story, _Where'd You Go?_ and it depresses me beyond belief. She's made notes of making a sequel, so you know what I ask you to do? **convince her to make the damn sequel!**

**second**, I started a really good story (in my opinion, and I've gotten on average 6 or 7 reviews per chapter so far) recently, and I really appreciate it if you take a look. It's only four chapters long as of now, so it should be a quick read to see if you're interested. It's called **Nostalgia: My Past Neverlasting**. (and as a teaser, I'll even tell you that in this fic Kyle's... mute).

**and third,** remember to tell me if I should make this longer by about five chapters to fit in some extra stuff, or just keep it the way it is, as planned.


	30. A Matter of Choice

SURPRISE! An update!

As with many other stories, the final chapter may not always be the way you wanted it. Mainly because you wanted things to occur certain ways, and they never did. Just remember that I've known this ending for a really long time, and I choose to not steer away with it.

On a side note…. THE LAST CHAPTER! Finally.

**Faith**  
_Chapter 30  
(finally)_

_"I want you back, damnit!" _

_"Give it up," said Kyle from the bridge, where he and Stan were holding hands. "You can't have him. Get over it." _

_"Never!" she shrieked, and her hands went straight for Kyle's throat. Kyle's eyes widened with fear, and as Stan turned to help he felt a strong pair of hands bind his own behind his back._

_"Can't help your fag friend now, can you?" said a male's voice, and Stan had noticed how he intentionally breathed hot breath on his neck as he spoke. Stan watched in fear as Wendy attempted to strangle Kyle and every attempt Stan made was only restrained._

_"Let me go!" yelled Stan, struggling once more._

_"Oh, but you love this so much more," said his captor, breathing even more hot breath on his neck. Stan closed his eyelids for a split second, almost giving in to the feeling, However he quickly came to his senses, and tried struggling again. "You're going to find it hard to set yourself free. Especially..." His captor let himself trail off, but as Stan wondered what he meant to say the boy used physical actions to finish him off. He felt his captor's body pressed against him from behind, and Stan unwillingly let out a gasp. His captor only smirked more, and sent a warm mist of air on Stan's skin._

_Stan had given in._

_"Stop playing with him," said a strict voice, completely intruding Stan's thoughts. He recognized this voice immediately as Cartman's, and he opened his eyes immediately to see what was going._

_"We're done," said Wendy, and Cartman nodded. He made a head notion over his shoulder, and the three quickly left the scene, his unknown captor tossing him carelessly on the floor. Stan groaned at the impact, but he quickly got up and scrambled his way over to Kyle. He was clearly unconscious, and Stan could almost see marks along his neck. He placed a hand on the boy's chest, and did not feel it rise or sink._

_"YOU CAN'T BE DEAD!"_

-

Stan opened his eyes and anticipated the worst.

It had been that same bridge. Wendy was virtually in the same position, the two boys against the bridge in the same manner. The girl had uttered the same phrase. In the midst of his shock Stan turned to the boy beside him; he couldn't tell whether everyone was wearing the same clothes, but at that point it didn't really matter.

Stan only hoped everything else would play out differently, but there was no use in worrying about it. Whatever happens would happen, he decided; and, pulling a straight face, he turned back to Wendy.

"No," Stan said quietly, shutting his eyes. Wendy growled from where she was but Stan ignored her. "Wendy, you've broken up with me many times now? I think I wanna… love someone who actually loves me."

"I do LOVE you!" Wendy exclaimed, glaring at Kyle. "Besides, how can some… _guy_… love you? He's a guy! Guys don't love guys!"

"Give it up," Kyle interjected firmly, gripping Stan's hand tightly—and though Stan thought the action would possibly calm him down, instead in caused his insides to tremble. "You can't have him. Get over it."

Stan felt his legs become weak. Sure, it wasn't word for word, but his dream was slowly become a reality…. But should he have been surprised? As it was, the other aspects of his dream had already happened. Clyde had died… he and Kyle had gotten together afterward…. But then, that'd mean….

"NEVER!" Wendy shrieked, lunging herself at Kyle. Acting quickly, Stan threw himself between the two, doing his best to pull her off Kyle. Granted the angle caused him pain, but he vowed to not give in. He wouldn't allow the rest of his dream to come true.

"Get _off_ him!" roared Stan, and for a moment she had acted as if she were to listen to him. But instead she nodded, a glint in her eye glistening underneath the starry sky as she started once more. Stan resumed his attempt to save his friend, but a grip so cold on his skin only caused him panic. "Damnit, get the _fuck_ off me!"

"Can't help your fag friend now, can you?" Stan only continued to kick and scream, but his efforts proved futile as the grip on him was only held tighter. "Can't help anyone, can you? But Cartman was right. It really is all about choices." His captor sprayed hot breath on Stan's neck, and though Stan's determination did not falter the boy still whimpered from contact.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" sneered the boy, and Stan sighed. If only the person weren't wearing a mask, maybe then Stan might've realized his captor… but the muffled voice would not be enough for Stan to figure out the mystery. Even in Stan's dream he had not known his captor… but he knew it wasn't Wendy or Cartman, at the least….

Token?

"Stan!" and the said boy's eyes grew wide as Wendy placed her hands at Kyle's throat. "Stan, help!"

Stan wanted to reply, but a hand was placed over his mouth. He struggled once more, but his captor was quite strong, physically. Yet despite these restraints, Stan let out a muffled scream into the hand. "Let go of me!"

"Oh, but you'll love this so much more," the voice said again, breathing once more at his skin. Stan closed his eyes for a split second, not because he gave in to the feeling but rather to concentrate as to what to do. However his captor was at it again, and Stan let out a gasp as he felt the sticky feeling of saliva against the back of his neck. "You're a fag. You might enjoy this. And mark my words, you're gonna find it very hard to set yourself free."

Stan whimpered as he felt his arms—which were already forced behind his back—being pulled backwards. Stan cringed, his open palms feeling something he didn't want to touch, but with a forceful tug Stan knew what his captor wanted. "Go ahead. Touch it. You know you want it. I could use a hand job right about now." And before Stan knew it he was pressed flush against his captor's….

"Stop playing with him," said Cartman's recognizable voice, causing Stan to open his eyes. Cartman was now with them. But something… something…. Kyle had died within seconds after that phrase….

"Let me go!" Stan roared, and he rammed the back of his head against his captor's. The man fell down, sporting his now injured nose, but Stan didn't care. With all his might he threw himself at Wendy, prying free her fingers from his friend's throat….

"Make them shut up!" Cartman seethed with a hushed whisper. "People are gonna come if they here this ruckus."

But Stan's determination proved victorious, and at long last Wendy's fingers lost their grasp from the Jewish boy. Kyle fell to the ground, massaging his throat as he tried to catch his breath once more, and as he crawled to the bridge's edge slightly he witnessed both Wendy and a third man lunging at Stan.

"Goddamnit, Stan," said the man, and he untied the handkerchief around his mouth—the one he had used to muffle his voice—and stuff it in Stan's own mouth. "You just had to get in the way, didn't you?" And at that moment Stan's eyes grew wide.

Craig.

How had he not known? He had been in the club too, no…? He had been equally supportive of the Anti-GSA club, and yet not once had Stan thought about the boy….

And then Stan had realized the awful truth: this whole affair had been his fault. How he had hesitated to mention Cartman's name to the police officer, how he had chosen not to... how he had failed to recognize Craig… how he had been the one to lead Kyle to that bridge…. He had even gotten an advance warning in his dreams… somehow… and even then he had failed.

It was his entire fault.

He hung his head, catching a last glimpse of Kyle picking himself up and making his getaway, all before Craig threw a fist to his head.

He saw no more.

-

_Hey God, are you up there?_

_It's me, Stan._

_I'm not sure if you got my last letter. I hope you did, and even if you didn't give me a response I trust that you made things the way you really want them._

_I know I haven't been paying attention in church lately, but I just wanted to say that I'm sorry for everything I did. In case I've really died, or even if atoning will save the life of my best friend… I'd do anything for him. I don't care if he's Jewish, or if he's a homosexual… even if I'm gay, I really wish things go the best for him._

_I don't know what plan you have set out for all of us, but I guess the only thing I can do now is to live it out. My mom always said that God—you—had a plan for all of us, and I hope that this is it._

_You like seeing all your children happy, right? You know how happy he makes me feel, don't you? He means so much to me. This may sound weird, but in this dream I had, I saw him suffering. I saw him dying. It kills me to see him have to go through so much… please, I'm asking you._

_And maybe you won't answer my prayers because you're a homophobic God, but my mom also said once that you loved unconditionally…._

_Forgive me…? Forgive Kyle…? I'm begging you._

_-Stan_

_-_

A bright light filled Stan's eyes as he peered slightly at the ceiling.

"Oh thank God!—he's awake!" Stan only hoped that that voice would be Kyle's, but instead he felt the arms of his worried mother snake around him. "Goodness, I've only been praying for so long… your father's been very pissy, saying that prayers aren't anything—but wait till he hears that you're awake!"

Prayers… prayers being answered…? Maybe his own prayers…?

"Where… where's…?"

"Stan, don't try too hard, dear," his mother said, placing a soothing hand on his forehead. "I'm gonna get your father in here. Oh, your father's going to be so happy!"

"Mon, where's…?" but she exited the door without saying anything. Stan sighed, pulling himself up as he scanned the room. He had hoped that Kyle would be somewhere in the room, but he was only blinded with the excessive white.

God had answered his mother's prayers, hadn't he? Hopefully his own would be answered.

But maybe Kyle didn't need hospitalization? Maybe he had been lucky.

But what happened to Cartman and Wendy? …and Craig?

Stan suppressed a groan, struggling at organizing his scattered thoughts. He primarily wanted to know if Kyle was all right, but there was so much stuff Stan wanted to know….

With a burst of the door Mr. Marsh strode into the room, followed closely by Kenny. "Ah, so your mother was right!" he exclaimed, hugging his son tightly.

"Dad," began Stan with a bit more collected strength. "Dad?"

"The doctor said you were gonna be out of it for a while," said Mr. Marsh, nodding. "But of course, you're a Marsh! I knew you'd be better much more quickly!"

"Dad, listen to me!"

"…and I'm sorry that I doubted your mother, but you have to understand that—"

"DAD!" Stan exclaimed, and the man shut up. "Dad… where's Kyle?"

"Kyle…?" he repeated slowly. "Kyle, he…."

"Mr. Marsh, maybe I should take it from here?" From his corner Kenny raised his hand, and with a slight nod Mr. Marsh left the room. Stan glanced, mouth agape, from the door to Kenny, but his face fell when he saw Kenny's expression.

"Kenny…?" Stan asked slowly, but Kenny only bit his lip.

"There's something I gotta tell you," Kenny said quietly, sitting on the side of his bed.

-

Stan was in tears.

Screw the doctor's orders. As far as he was concerned, Stan was already well—well enough, at least. He could walk, talk, eat, sleep… and all the other necessary body functions. Yet despite that, his doctor still refused to let him leave the hospital—even for the slightest moment.

"I'll tell him you meant to come, if you want," offered Kenny, lowering his hood. "Stan, there's no use in changing his mind…."

"I wanna go," said Stan, hiccupping. "I _need_ to see him."

"You can't," said Kenny, which had caused Stan to whine a good deal. "Kyle knows you wanted to see him, I'm sure. He knows you love him."

"It's not fair," spat Stan, crossing his arms in an infantile manner. "Why couldn't it be later, once I got out of the hospital?"

"We tried," Kenny said apologetically. "Honestly, we did. But it's Jewish custom to do it within a certain amount of days after… well, you know." Stan bit his lip and turned away, eyes watering at the thought. "Eh, Stan, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry about it," Stan said, sniffling. "I'm fine." But he wasn't. Even as Kenny said his goodbye Stan continued to cry. Why did everything have to happen to him…?

Stan punched his pillow in anger and slammed it across the room, settling down onto his bed as he only sobbed some more. Maybe God really was homophobic, as well… maybe that's right he hadn't answered the boy's prayers….

"Why…?" Stan asked aloud before closing his eyes.

He missed Kyle's funeral.

-

It was a week later when an unhappy Stan was finally admitted out of the hospital. He was overloaded with the homework he had missed, but that was nowhere near being one of his priorities. He could do that later… but there was one thing he knew couldn't wait.

In one hand he held two bouquets. With a sigh he crouched down, bending down to ground level, and as he bit back tears he placed one bouquet in a small vase.

Clyde Donovan, the plate had said.

He stood motionless in front of Clyde's tombstone, many things running through his mind. At least, if not the inside of his mind, the cemetery was rather quiet, quiet enough for Stan to pay his respects. He remained for several moments, uttering several things under his breath, and with a revered bow he walked away.

The Jewish area of the cemetery wasn't far away, and Stan made that walk in silence. And as he found Kyle's grave, the entirety of the situation hit him with full force.

Kyle was dead.

Stan chose not to speak, silence being the best form of reverence he could give. Tears once more dripped down the sides of his cheeks. His body trembled, his arms shaking as he set a bouquet of flowers by his grave.

He looked in his other hand and sighed. Crunched in his fist was a letter, _the_ letter, in fact. It was God's reply. Stan hadn't opened it, not even when his mother had given it to him shortly after his awakening. He wanted to know the response, sure, but, as he reminded himself by looking down in front of him, even if the response was good, it would no longer be helpful.

He let the crumpled letter fly into the wind.

"I… I… love you, Kyle," Stan said, before his body gave way to tears.

-

It was all about choices.

Stan chose to bring Kyle to that bridge, forgetting his dream. But even in light of the dream, Stan chose to break free from Craig's grasp, to give Kyle one last fighting chance.

Cartman, Wendy, and Craig all chose to commit actions against homosexual kids. Under that same light, Token had chosen to deviate from that path.

Kyle chose to run away from the scene—or at least, to begin to. But then, when Kenny had met up with Kyle, he had chosen to go back, to not abandon Stan, to not leave him to his captors. Instead of accompanying Kyle, Kenny had chosen to find help.

Then, as Stan had learned from Kenny, Token chose to return to the aid of Anti-GSA; he brandished a gun and shot Kyle in the back.

The descriptions being much more specific than that, of course. But Stan didn't really care about half the details Kenny had given; Kenny had found the two boys half an hour later, accompanied with help.

It was all a matter of choice. And, as he walked into the office, he bit his lip and took a seat at the desk.

"Stan Marsh," the police officer said softly. "You wanted to tell us about the events?—If it's too soon for you I completely understand."

Stan bowed his head. _It was all a matter of choice… a matter of faith…_

_I choose… to not abandon… those I love…._

"I do," Stan said firmly. This time, Stan would give the officer names. He'd make sure of it.  
Because that had been his fault.

Stan sighed, clearly his throat. With the proper choices and the proper faith… justice would be served.

**End.**

I FINALLY FINISHED A STORY!

Okay, so this was my first South Park fan fiction, so I know it kinda sucked. I learned more about the characters since the day I started this, and I'm sure some of you agree with me when I say I can produce better stories now.

Still, this story holds a special place in my heart… mainly because it's so different than what I'm used to writing nowadays.

I request that you please don't flame this story just because Kyle died. I appreciate all your reviews as of now, and, as I said earlier, I had already planned this story's ending for some time.

As for the ending itself… I think I'm right in saying that I can't properly end stories. I don't like ending them, as you might've guessed. After all, I haven't updated since late January. But I had the sudden urge to get this story off my chest, so… I've done it.

But personally, I dislike the ending.

I hope you all are satisfied, because I am. And please, don't stop reviewing my stuff. Especially this last chapter.

I wanted to do this thing, where I thank every person that's reviewed this story; but there are too many of you! Just remember that I appreciate ALL of your reviews! You truly make my day, all of you.

As for the future… **The Curious Moves** seems to be really successful in terms of reviews, so that will probably be my main focus. But, if you want anything else updated, leave me a note and I'll consider it.

I love you all!

- Zak -

Please check out:  
The Curious Moves  
Nostalgia: My Past Neverlasting  
Still

On a completely random note... I passed all my AP exams! (All meaning the four AP classes I took...)


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